Shiver
by supernaturalsam
Summary: Everyone has something they're afraid of. A murderer is loose in River Heights killing people with their fears. Now, Nancy and the Hardys are determined to stop him before they become his next victims. N/F COMPLETED 7/24/12.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here I am once again jumping into the madness that is writing. After a long hiatus, I realized that I really missed my fandom and decided I should do something about that. So, here I am with another thriller!**

**Before we get started, I will warn you now that this is a Frank/Nancy pairing...if it's not your cup of whatever beverage you prefer, then you should just turn around now. **

**Frank and Nancy are twenty-four and engaged while Joe is twenty-three.**

**This story takes place in River Heights and for the sake of this one, doesn't follow any timelines I have previously established. As usual with my stories, I not only focus on the main characters but the minor ones as well, especially the villain. As I've said before, everyone has a story to tell. **

**I want to thank my beta, Roswalyn, for being hte best in the world and being so excited when I told her I was going to write another story. :)**

**I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

**(P.S.- I know I have another story in progress but I needed to step away from it. I do have hopes for continuing it but it may still take some time!)**

**Chapter One**

Ben Matthews fidgeted nervously in his seat, his fingers toying absently with the small length of thread hanging from the bottom of his jacket. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as they took in the newcomer, whispering amongst themselves about what his story could possibly be. He looked normal enough—light brown hair, hazel eyes, with a slightly athletic build. But then again, so did the others sitting in the circle.

_Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn't be here doing this. I don't know why I even let my doctor talk me into this._

His eyes darted up to the man sitting across from him, but the encouraging smile Dr. Jonathan Stark flashed him did nothing to alleviate the nervous flutter in his stomach. He wished for what must have been the tenth time since he walked through the door to the local community center that the spotlight could be off of him.

"Now, as you can see, we have a newcomer among us today," Dr. Stark said, his voice commanding the attention of the group. Ben let out a small sigh as the interest turned away from him and focused on the psychologist. "I want you to remember that this is a friendly, judgment-free environment. We're here to support each other and to provide a trusting atmosphere.

"Acrophobia, Nyctophobia, Pyrophobia, Anthropophobia-these are all clinical terms for fears and phobias. Fear is a natural occurrence. Everyone has something that they are afraid of, even me. The important thing is to acknowledge it and overcome it." Dr. Stark's eyes roamed around the circle, seeking each person. "You're here today to take that step forward. You're here because you're ready to release yourself from your fears and take control of your own life. Now, who would like to start?"

The room was silent for a few moments before an older woman with grayish red hair raised her hand and stood up. "My name is Rosa and I'm afraid of the dark…terrified really."

Ben glanced around the room as the rest of the group greeted Rosa as one, questioning himself once again if he actually should be there. After all, how could a group of strangers help him come to terms with his fear? It's not as if they knew him and talking to them could suddenly help him overcome it.

"I know fear usually stems from something that's happened when we were younger but I actually don't have anything to base mine on," Rosa said softly. "For as long as I can remember, I simply never liked being in the dark. I can't even sleep with a nightlight because I only focus on the darkness."

"And how have you let your fear control your life, Rosa?" Stark asked.

"It's controlled every aspect of it. I'm almost fifty years old and I've never had a steady relationship. It's hard to date anyone when you can't even go out at night because you're so afraid." Rosa glanced out the window, swallowing nervously as the late afternoon sun slowly began to fade below the horizon. "Even now, it's taking everything that I have not to run out the door."

"What's stopping you from doing that?"

Rosa took a deep breath, her eyes locking on Stark's. "Because I'm tired of living like this. I'm tired of not having a life because of this stupid fear."

"It's not stupid, Rosa." Stark glanced around the room. "That's the first thing all of you need to realize—your fears are not stupid. They are a part of you, as they are with everyone else. If anyone tells you they're not afraid of anything, then they're simply lying to you. Everyone has something that they're fearful of."

Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Stark's eyes rested on him.

"Would you like to share your fear with us, Ben?"

"I—" The young man hesitated as he noticed everyone staring at him. The spotlight was growing brighter and hotter over him and he knew the only way to get it off of him was to start talking. Taking a deep breath, Ben cleared his throat. "My name is Ben and I have a fear of heights."

"Welcome, Ben," the group said. Some were smiling at him, while others acted bored with the entire thing.

"I'm engaged to be married in a couple of months and I promised my fiancée that I would go skydiving with her on our honeymoon. She knows that I don't particularly like heights, but she doesn't know how deep the fear actually goes."

"Why don't you tell the room what happened to you when you were younger, Ben," Stark said.

Ben nodded. "When I was ten years old, my parents took me to an amusement park. I wanted to go on the Ferris wheel because I had never been on one before and all my friends were talking about it, saying how much fun it was to get to the top and see everything for miles away.

"All of a sudden, the wheel lurched just when my dad and I were getting to the top. I guess I wasn't sitting in the chair right because I felt myself sliding out and saw my dad grabbing for me. He managed to grab my arm just before I could fall out and plummet to the ground."

A series of gasps and murmurs went up among the group but Ben ignored them as he continued to talk. It actually felt good that he was sharing his experience with others, even if they were complete strangers. "I remember looking down and seeing my mom screaming and pointing up at me. My dad had a hard time holding onto me because I was freaking out and struggling, trying to get back up into the car. It seemed like forever before he was finally able to pull me up into his arms."

"How did that experience change you, Ben?" Stark asked.

"I can't even go up a small flight of stairs without having a panic attack. My apartment is on the first level because I can't even put my foot up on the stairs without freezing." He flashed a small smile. "My fiancée has been trying to help me and I can tell she's getting frustrated. I'm afraid if I don't get help and overcome my fear, she may decide to leave me. If she does that, then I have nothing…she's everything to me and I don't want to lose her."

"And that's why you're here," Stark said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "I wanted to start this group as a way for all of you to cope and to have a strong support system. I wanted you to see that you all were not alone, that there are others here who are struggling with fears. They may not be the same fears you have, but they have them and they are just as debilitating."

Leaning back in his chair, Ben let out a small sigh, glad that he was finished speaking. Maybe this group therapy wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all. He was willing to do anything to get past his fear so he could have a life with Sara.

"Well, I think that will do it for tonight," Stark said, gathering up his belongings before standing up. "We'll meet back here next week at the same time. Rosa, if you'll wait, I'll be more than happy to accompany you to your car."

Scooping up his jacket, Ben slipped it on before taking his keys out of his jeans pocket.

"Hey, Ben…a few of us were going to head to Al's if you wanted to join us," a young man with shaggy red hair said.

Ben shook his head. "Thanks, but Sara is waiting at home for me. I promised to take her out to the movies tonight."

"Okay…well, maybe next time."

"Yeah, sounds good." With a wave, Ben pushed the door open, the cool air instantly closing in around him. Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he braced himself against the wind as he walked towards his car. He'd had to park a block or so away because of a wedding reception that was happening in one of the other rooms and there had been no parking spots available.

There wasn't much activity around River Heights as he quickly made his way to his car. Not that there was ever anything really happening in town, but it seemed eerily quiet to him, especially given it was a Friday night. Seeing his car, he picked up his pace, wanting nothing more than to hop inside and turn the heat on full blast. A chill was cutting through him and he wasn't sure it was entirely due to the weather.

It was almost as if he was being watched.

_Great…now you're starting to get paranoid. Why don't you just add that to the list of problems you already have, Ben?_

Pressing the button on his remote, he heard the doors click as they unlocked. Reaching for the door handle, he only caught a glimpse of a dark shadow in his window before he felt someone grab him and something sharp pricking his neck. The keys fell from his grip and clattered to the pavement, his hands going up to immediately struggle against his captor.

His eyes darted around the dark street, seeking out anyone who could possibly help or call the police. He couldn't even see the assailant's face in the window, his face concealed by the shadow of the hood on his jacket. Ben felt himself growing weaker, realizing too late that he had been drugged.

Slowly, the world closed in on him until there was nothing but darkness.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was windier than it had been when he'd walked out of the community center, Ben realized as he came to with a start. His head was pounding and his tongue felt thick in his mouth, as if it were stuffed with cotton balls. There was something tight around his wrists and it took a few moments for him to realize that he was standing against something.

Slowly opening his eyes, terror instantly seized him as he saw he was standing on the opposite side of a balcony, his arms stretched on either side on him, tied to the railing. The ground below him swam in and out of focus, his feet nearly falling out from under him as he struggled, desperate to get on the other side of the railing where he could get solid ground beneath him. As it was, he was standing on a surface that couldn't be any bigger than four inches wide.

_Okay, take a deep breath, Ben. _

_Control your fear…don't let it control you._

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

Peering down, he felt his heart slow down slightly. He had to be at least five stories above the ground.

The real question was how he'd gotten there.

His head jerked around at the sound of a scuffle, like a shoe rubbing against the concrete. The mysterious man from the alleyway stepped out of the shadows, the hood moved away from his head, revealing his face. Even though it was dark, Ben could see shaggy red hair reflected in the moonlight.

"You…you were at…at the meeting," Ben said, his voice shaking.

The man smiled but remained silent.

"Wh…what are you doing?"

"I'm helping you overcome your fears, just like the doctor said we should," the man said. "I'm here to support you, Ben."

"I don't even know your name."

The man shrugged. "It's not important. If it makes you feel any better, you can call me Toby."

"Okay…Toby." Ben swallowed hard, afraid to take his eyes off the other man. "You don't have to do this."

"Of course I do."

"Why?"

"Because I want to set you free," Toby said. He walked over to the railing, peering down at the ground below. "I never understood what the hype was about heights, you know. If you ask me, it's one of the best ways to die."

Ben's eyes widened as he glanced at Toby. "Why do you say that?"

The man gave another careless shrug. "It's quick and nine times out of ten, you die instantly. There's no pain, no suffering. You just go plummeting towards the ground and…" He clapped his hands in front of Ben's face, making him jump. "You're dead."

"Please don't do this, man," Ben begged, not caring how needy it made him sound. He didn't want to die—all he wanted was to go home to Sara. "Please, just let me go."

"I am going to let you go." Pushing away from the rail, he reached behind his jeans and pulled out a large hunting knife. The moonlight glinted off the blade as he held it up in front of Ben's face. "I'm going to give you your freedom, Ben."

Ben let out a sigh, relief flooding through him at his words. The first thing he was going to do was run to the police station and get this freak put behind bars. Then, he was going to go home to Sara and never let her go.

The man put his hand over Ben's, angling the knife so it could cut the ropes around his left wrist. The ropes snapped away as he cut at the last threads, his grip still tight on Ben's hand, holding it against the railing.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked, glancing at the man.

"I told you that I was setting you free."

"Then let go of me and help me over the railing."

Letting out a cold chuckle, the man shook his head before letting go of Ben's hand. Before the young man could react, he felt his legs being kicked out from under him. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he felt himself falling forward before he was jerked to a stop, the ropes around his right wrist stopping him from sailing to the pavement below. Pain tore through him as he heard a pop in his wrist, a scream erupting from his lips.

Turning his body around, his feet dangled as he looked up with wide eyes at the crazed man. "No! Don't do this, please! Help me back up!"

"If I do that, it's not going to help you overcome your fear, Ben."

"I don't care about that!" Ben yelled. "I can live with it! Please, just help me back up! Don't let me die!"

"I'm not letting you die…I'm helping you live." Bringing the knife to the ropes, the man slowly and deliberately began sawing away at the hemp.

"_No! Please!"_ Ben was practically screaming as he tried to pull himself up with his other hand, desperately trying to grab at the railing. He kept screaming until his throat was raw, praying that someone would hear him and help him before it was too late. His body jerked as the ropes slowly unraveled, bringing him closer and closer to inevitable death.

"Embrace your fear, Benjamin. It's the only way you can set yourself free."

With one last flick of his wrist, the man sliced through the last of the ropes, sending Ben plunging towards the ground, his body making a sickening crunch as it collided with the wet pavement.


	2. Chapter 2

**I would first like to thank rosa lunae, SarahE7191, Cruelest Sea, and zenfrodo for their reviews. You guys rock and they made me so happy when I saw them. I am so glad that you are enjoying it so far! I would also like to thank everyone who has added me to their alert lists...those mean just as much to me as the reviews, so thanks!**

**I would also love to thank my awesome beta, roswalyn!**

**Don't be shy to let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy and until the next update...**

Chapter Two

Nancy Drew smiled as she saw the top of Frank Hardy's head peeking out from the crowd as he made his way towards her. He wasn't too hard to distinguish considering he stood well over the majority of the hungry patrons packing the entrance of La Fiesta, the newest Mexican restaurant in River Heights. She had arrived fifteen minutes earlier to secure them a table while Frank had finished up some paperwork back at the office and she was glad she did, since the line outside the door seemed to be getting longer.

"Sorry it took me so long to get here," Frank said, planting a kiss on her cheek before sliding into the booth next to her.

"Don't worry about it," Nancy answered, feeling that familiar heat rushing through her body as she came into contact with Frank. The attraction was still as strong as when they were teenagers, maybe even a little stronger. "You're here now."

Frank smiled. "I thought the crowd was going to kill me when I was making my way through. Did you have to wait long for a table?"

"Not really. Maybe about ten minutes or so." Nancy picked up the menu and held it between them so they both could browse through the selections. "I went ahead and ordered you a tea and the queso should be here at any moment."

"You know me too well, Drew."

"You're just too predictable, Hardy," Nancy said with a teasing smile.

Frank arched a brow as he nudged her gently. "Is that so?"

Nancy let out a theatrical sigh as she shrugged. "I'm afraid it is. You know, if it wasn't for this ring you put on my finger, I may have already gone and found someone more exciting and unpredictable."

"Not happening, Nan," Frank said softly, taking her left hand in his, the diamonds in the engagement ring sparkling under the faint light above them. "It took me a long time to get that ring on your finger. I'm not about to let you go now…or ever, for that matter."

"Glad to hear it."

After years of flirting and dodging their obvious attraction for one another, Frank had shown up on her doorstep late one night, professing his love for her. Nancy would never forget that night—it seemed as if everything was finally perfectly aligning, as if the universe knew they were always meant to be together. She had broken up with Ned two years before and while she'd wanted nothing more than to call Frank up and tell him how she really felt about him, she didn't. Joe, Frank's younger brother, had told her that Frank was engaged to Callie, though he hadn't seemed thrilled with the idea.

After that bit of unsettling news, Nancy had done her best to put Frank behind her, focusing on her career. She'd earned her criminal justice degree from Wilder and immediately enrolled into the police academy. Upon completion, she'd considered joining the FBI and was in the process of getting the paperwork in order for Quantico when Chief McGinnis had called her and offered her a position as lead detective for the River Height Police Department.

Not wanting to pass up the chance of remaining in her hometown around her family and friends, Nancy jumped at the opportunity. And for seven months, she had succeeded in submerging herself in her work, putting everything behind her and focusing on what was ahead. She thought she was doing great until that night when Frank showed up at her apartment, dripping wet and breathless.

As soon as he'd told her everything she'd wanted to hear for years, all the walls she had built around herself came crumbling down. It was only the next day that she'd found out from Joe that Frank had called off his wedding in the middle of the ceremony and had boarded the first flight to River Heights.

To be with her.

It took everything she had not to send Frank packing because she never wanted to be _that_ person—the one that everyone resented because she had ruined a marriage, though technically she'd had nothing to do with it. It took a lot of convincing from Frank that it wasn't her fault, that it was his for even stringing Callie along when it was Nancy he'd wanted to be with all along.

Now, eight months later, Callie had moved on and was married to a pediatrician and Frank and Nancy were engaged to be married.

"So, have you talked to Joe lately?" Nancy asked after the waitress had come over to take their orders.

Frank took a tortilla chip from the basket and dipped it into the melted cheese, popping it into his mouth before it could drip onto his shirt. "Yeah…right before I got here. He was complaining about the delay and anything else he could think of."

"Typical."

"They were starting to board when he hung up with me so he should be here within a couple of hours or so."

Nancy glanced down at her watch, seeing that it was close to seven, meaning Joe wouldn't show up at the apartment until around ten, given the hour it takes to drive from Chicago. She had to admit that she was happy to see the younger Hardy since he hadn't been around in a couple of months, though she knew she was nowhere near as excited as Frank.

Growing up, the brothers had pretty much been inseparable, teaming up with each other to help their father, Fenton, on cases. On many occasions, Nancy had teamed up with them as well and had always envied the way they each had someone to depend on. That's not saying she didn't have that herself with Ned and her two best friends Bess Marvin and George Fayne, but there was something about having a sibling to count on that made it better. Not having any siblings herself, Nancy had always likened her relationship with Joe to a brother/sister one.

Frank had been ideally upset when Joe had broken the news to him that he'd wanted to stay in Bayport and help their father run their thriving private detective business. It took a while for Nancy to convince Frank that it was for the best, considering Joe had his own life with Vanessa. Besides, it had been Frank's choice to stay in River Heights with Nancy and he couldn't expect Joe to just drop everything just to join him.

"It's too bad he couldn't get here earlier," Nancy commented as she nibbled on a chip. "He would have loved to come here."

"Joe would love anything you put in front of his face," Frank said with a grin. "Give him one of those food carts in New York City and he thinks it's a gourmet meal."

Nancy smiled at him. "You've missed him, haven't you?"

Frank glanced away sheepishly. "If I admit to that, you promise not to tell him? He already thinks I'm the more emotional of the two of us as it is."

"He's not going to hear a peep out of me."

"You're going to rat me out to him, aren't you?"

Nancy was saved from saying anything as the waitress came back to the table with their meals. Placing each of their orders in front of them, she made sure they didn't need anything else before scurrying away to her next table. Nancy didn't envy any of the staff as the line at the door seemed to be getting longer and longer.

The young couple ate in companionable silence, exchanging a few words every now and then. Nancy preferred to people watch as she ate, guessing it stemmed from her line of work. You could tell a lot about people in public settings, especially restaurants, whether it was from business meetings where people were most of the time trying to kiss each other's ass to couples who were either deeply in love or trying to salvage the last thread of their relationships.

"Do you ever wonder what people think of us when we're out together?" Nancy asked, her eyes roaming over the tables.

Frank shrugged. "Not really. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I guess because I do the same thing as I look at everyone else."

"That's because you can never give your mind any rest. You have to turn it off sometimes, Nan. Even you're allowed that option."

Nancy shook her head. "If I did that, I think I might actually go insane."

Frank chuckled as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "And I actually believe that. It's one of the reasons I love you so much, Drew. You never stop, always wanting to know what's around the next corner."

"Some people would just call that being nosy."

"And I'm not just 'some people'. When are you going to learn that?" Frank leaned forward, brushing a tender kiss across her lips as the waitress came back with their check. Pulling away from Nancy, he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. Thumbing through his money, he pulled it free, throwing it on the table on top of the check, leaving extra for a tip.

Scooting out of the booth, he held out his hand to Nancy. "Come on, let's get out of here before they kick us out."

Taking Frank's hand, Nancy let him pull her out, holding onto it tightly as he led her out of the restaurant. As soon as they pushed out of the door, the cool air bit into her skin, making her pull her jacket tighter around her. It was a brisk autumn night, the full moon tucked away behind the gray clouds. She felt herself relax as Frank put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close against him as they walked down the sidewalk.

The solitude of the moment was broken by the sound of her cell phone ringing. Breaking away from Frank, she reached into her pocket and sighed when she saw the screen.

"Hey, Chief. What's going on?"

"_Nancy, I'm sorry to bother you while you're off-duty. I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."_

"No, sir—now's a good time," Nancy said with an apologetic glance at Frank. "Is everything okay?"

"_Not exactly."_

"What happened?"

"_We just got a report of a jumper outside the Eisenhower Apartments."_

"The Eisenhower Apartments have been abandoned for years," Nancy said, frowning. "That sounds like an open-and-shut case though. Can't one of the officers handle it until the morning? We still need to pick up Joe from the airport."

"_I wouldn't call you if it wasn't important, Nancy. You could be right; it could be a clear-cut suicide. But I'd like to be sure and that's where you come in. You're my lead detective, after all."_

Nancy stopped walking as she glanced up at the sky, wishing for just once that the responsibility didn't lie on her. "I'll call you when I know something."

"What's wrong?" Frank asked as soon as she hung up.

"There was a suicide at the Eisenhower Apartments. The chief wants me to go check it out."

"But you're not on duty and we're supposed to be at the airport in an hour to pick Joe up."

"Yeah, I tried to tell him that but he didn't want to hear it." Nancy looked up at him. "Why don't you go and pick Joe up and I'll meet you back at the apartment later after I wrap things up?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Drew?"

Nancy shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Frank kissed her on her forehead. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I can leave a message for Joe to grab a rental."

"No, it's okay…really. With luck, this will just turn into something quick and I'll be home before you and Joe even get there."

Rolling his eyes, Frank smiled down at her. "Since when have we ever had luck on our side?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Eisenhower Apartment complex wasn't too difficult to find. It was in the quieter part of River Heights, just out of the main downtown area but still close enough where it was within walking distance from the shops. No one had lived there in years, the old building the unfortunate victim of neglect and foreclosure. There had been talks recently of a developer from Chicago coming in to remodel it but as far as Nancy knew, those were just rumors.

Pulling her car to a stop, she made sure her cell phone was in her pocket before getting out of the car. A group of officers and the medical examiner were clustered around what she assumed to be the body of the jumper. As soon as she approached, everyone looked up and greeted her.

Nancy glanced at the sheet that was covering the victim, glad that he was covered if the blood on the fabric was any indication of what was waiting behind it. She actually didn't mind the sight of blood—just not the gory contents that usually went with a jumper.

"What do we have?"

An older man with a slight gut stepped forward and took her by the arm, pulling her away from the crowd. Officer Crawford had a round face with rosy cheeks and thinning black hair. He was affectionately known as "Papa" around the small force. "We got a call around seven thirty from a pedestrian who said they heard screaming." He nodded at a teen who was standing to the side with another of the officers.

"Did he see anything?" Nancy asked.

Papa shook his head. "No. Not that we can gather anyway. He said he heard the victim scream and he came racing around. By the time he got up here, our guy had already hit the pavement."

Nancy nodded as she glanced up at the tall structure. "Where do you think he jumped from?"

"The medical examiner is thinking it had to be at least five stories up, considering the damage to the victim's body."

"Do we have a name for the victim?"

Papa thumbed through his notebook before coming to a stop towards the end. "Ben Matthews. Twenty-three years old and his address isn't too far from here."

"Did you find a note?"

"Not on him."

"What about his car?"

"We haven't located his car. But then again, he could have just walked here."

"Have you notified his family?"

"Not yet but we will be shortly."

Nancy let out a sigh as she ran her hands through her hair. "So, this is looking more like a suicide. But why come all the way out here?"

Papa shrugged. "It's quiet and abandoned."

"Detective Drew!"

Nancy turned around at the sound of her name, seeing Karen Gill, the medical examiner/funeral director for River Heights, waving her over. Excusing herself from Papa, Nancy made her way over to the petite woman. "Hey, Karen."

"Hey, Nancy. It's been a while," Karen said with a smile. "We don't typically get many calls together."

"I'm not going to complain about that," Nancy said, returning the smile. "Are you ready to call this a suicide?"

Karen frowned. "Maybe…maybe not."

"What does that mean?" Nancy asked, feeling a knot form in her stomach. Murders didn't normally occur in River Heights. In fact, the last one had to be at least a year ago.

"I found something that may suggest it wasn't a suicide, after all."

"What?"

Karen knelt down next to the body, pulling the sheet away from his arm to reveal his left wrist. There was a deep indentation that was turning a purplish brown with trace amounts of blood. "What does that look like to you?"

It was Nancy's turn to frown as she bent down to peer closely at the victim's wrist. She knew what she was looking at considering she'd had her fair share of experience with being tied up from many cases in her past. "It looks like a ligature mark."

"Exactly. He has one on the other wrist as well."

That feeling of dread completely consumed Nancy as she thought about what that meant. Unless the victim had a partner he was working with, there was no way this was a suicide. There was no way a person could tie themselves up and leave the kind of marks that were visible on Ben's wrists.

Straightening up to her full height, Nancy took a step back and glanced up at the balconies that loomed over them. "We obviously know he fell from up there but the real question is was he dead before he hit the ground?"

Karen stood up, brushing the dirt off her jeans as a gurney was brought over to them. "I won't know for sure until I get back to the office and perform the autopsy. I'll let you know something as soon as I find it."

"Thanks, Karen."

Stepping away from them, Nancy reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. _So much for getting home anytime soon_, she thought as she dialed Frank's number. She sighed as it rang before going to voicemail.

"Hey, it's me," she said as soon as she heard the beep. "Looks like I'm going to be held up out here for a while, considering our suicide most likely just turned into a murder. Don't worry about coming out here—I'm sure Joe is exhausted. I'll catch you up on everything when I get home later. I love you."

Disconnecting the call, Nancy then dialed the number for Chief McGinnis, not surprised when her supervisor picked up on the first ring.

"_Tell me what you got, Drew."_

"Looks like you were right to send me out here, after all. Karen found evidence to suggest it may not have been a suicide." Turning around, she once more glanced at the old building. "It's looking more like we might have a murder on our hands."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Many, many thanks to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, and/or adding me to their favorites list and story alerts. It really means a lot to me! I have had one or two trolls come along and try to knock me down with their reviews but I haven't let it get me down. **

**Anyone who reads my work knows that I don't let any negative comments get to me and if you feel so inclined to leave them, then by all means do it. But think about what you're doing—you're taking time out of **_**your **_**day to tell me how bad it is when you could have just passed it up altogether. So, who is the one winning here? You're adding to my review count, after all, so in the end, it just means that I win. If you don't like it, great. There's a tiny little "X" in the corner that you can click on and never come back to it again. **

**If there's something that you don't like, then don't be a coward and sign anonymously. Leave a review under your penname and I will be more than happy to discuss it with you.**

**Now that I am off my soapbox for a while, I would love to thank roswalyn for her awesome beta! **

**Sorry for the lack of updating…I'm blaming it on Mardi Gras!**

Chapter Three

Walking through the Chicago O'Hare International Airport always felt like an adventure to Frank. Though it wasn't as crazy as JFK, it still had its share of a variety of weary travelers, whether they were just passing through or coming to Chicago for business or pleasure. As he glanced up at the screen to make sure that Joe's flight was on time, he couldn't help but allow his eyes to roam over the terminal.

It was a natural curiosity and one that had benefitted him in his detective work. He knew how to read people, probably better than they actually knew how to read themselves. As he took in the throngs of passengers scurrying though the airport, he couldn't help but wonder what their stories were. And while that entertained him, it also bothered him a little, too.

He wished he could just turn his mind off and allow himself to relax. But it was impossible when your job was to investigate others, to always question motives and knowing that everyone has something to hide. It was one of the reasons he had always been so attracted to Nancy, considering she was just like him in her inquisitiveness. Callie had never been like that and had always seemed irritated when he questioned anything.

The last thing he'd wanted to do was hurt anybody when he left Callie for Nancy. Looking back though, he knew if he'd stayed with her, he was only going to hurt her even more. Was it cruel to leave her the day of their wedding? Of course, it was. Did he ever think he would be capable of doing something like that? Not at all, considering he was the more level-headed and rational Hardy.

But it had been for the best. From what he gathered from his mother and Joe, Callie was very happy now. In fact, she was happier than she had been when she was with him. Frank was thrilled for her—she was a wonderful woman and she deserved the best. But it was something that he couldn't ever fully give to her and she knew that. She wasn't stupid—she knew he had strong feelings for Nancy. They'd even had screaming matches about it every time he'd gotten off a case with Nancy.

Frank knew it had been a risky move to fly to Chicago and profess his love to Nancy, knowing very well that she could slam the door in his face and want nothing to do with him. After all, she'd had no reason to return his feelings considering he had pretty much stopped talking to her the months leading up to the wedding. It had gotten to the point where they weren't even exchanging texts on a daily basis before he ceased communication with her entirely. It wasn't that he'd wanted to do that, it was just easier to pretend she no longer existed.

For a while, he had succeeded in convincing himself that it was for the best, that they both could be happy if they never spoke to each other again. It wasn't until Nancy's graduation from Wilder University that he realized he had a problem, that there was no way he was going to ever get her off of his mind. Considering the fact that he'd dropped everything to sit in the back of the auditorium just to watch her receive her diploma told him everything he wanted to know. He was meant to be with Nancy.

He'd tried everything in his power after that to push her away. Just when he thought he had that door closed nice and tight, little things began happening. He'd found himself staying up late at night, searching her name on the Internet. At first, it was to see if she was okay, but after a while, it almost got to the point of obsession. He'd caught himself a few times listening to Joe's conversations with her, fighting the urge to rip the phone from his little brother's hands and tell her exactly how he felt.

There just wasn't anyone else in the world for him.

Frank wondered if he would ever tell her he was there as she walked across the stage and received her diploma. Then again, knowing Nancy the way he did, she probably knew and was never going to tell him.

"You do realize how creepy it is to see a lone grown man smiling in the middle of the airport, don't you?"

The older Hardy turned at the sound of his younger brother's voice to see Joe smirking at him, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "You seem to be the only one complaining at the moment," Frank said before grabbing Joe into a hug.

Joe returned the gesture before breaking away. "Why do I have a feeling that smile wasn't for me?"

"Sure it was. I was just remembering the time you decided to go for a ride on the luggage belt, making security come after your ass."

"That was awesome," Joe said, chuckling. "They couldn't do anything to me because I was a kid. Though, I remember Dad being pretty pissed about it."

"Dad was more than pissed."

"I don't think I've ever seen him turn that shade of red before." Joe frowned as he glanced around. "Where's Nancy? I thought for sure she would be here with you."

"You seem disappointed that I'm the only one here."

Joe shrugged. "Face it, Frank. The two of you are inseparable. It's amazing that you can function without each other."

"Funny."

"What? It's the truth."

Frank rolled his eyes as they moved towards the baggage claim area. "For your information, she got called on a case right before we were supposed to leave to come here."

"Really? What kind of case?"

"Supposedly, it was just a suicide. But I haven't heard anything from her, and it's been over an hour."

"Why would Nancy be called out on a suicide? She works homicide."

"It's River Heights, Joe," Frank said as his brother retrieved his suitcase from the conveyor belt. "They question anything, considering nothing ever really happens."

Joe grinned as they began walking towards the exit. "So, why are the two of you still there again?"

"Because it's her home and she loves it there," Frank said simply. "I want her to be happy."

"My God, has that woman got you whipped," Joe said, dodging out of the way before Frank could hit him. "Seriously, though…the two of you could do so much more if you moved to the city."

Frank shrugged as they walked across the street to the parking garage. "It's really not that bad. We spent a long time apart, Joe. Staying in River Heights allows us to get closer and spend more time with each other. Maybe eventually we'll move to the city but until then, we're happy where we are."

"Hey, whatever you say."

"Trust me, Joe. This is exactly what I want."

"I'm happy for you, Frank," Joe said as they arrived at Frank's Jeep. Opening the back door, he threw his bags inside before sliding into the passenger seat. "You know how I feel about Nancy. She's always been like a sister to me and if there's anyone I would want you to be with, it's her. I see how happy she makes you. Even when you were apart, it was obvious."

"You might want to save this for when we get back to the apartment," Frank said, flashing his brother a smile. "Nancy will never believe you said this when I tell her."

"She already knows how I feel. Who do you think convinced her to give you a chance when you showed up at her apartment all those months ago?"

Frank glanced at Joe as he pulled out onto the road and merged with traffic. "That was you?"

"Of course it was," Joe answered. "She was confused, Frank. Not to mention the guilt she felt when she found out you had walked out on your wedding because of her."

"She never had any reason to feel guilty."

"Nan didn't see it that way."

"I wonder why she never told me."

Joe shook his head as he leaned back against his seat. "I wouldn't worry about it now. It's in the past. You just need to worry about moving forward and making her happy. Because if you screw this up with her, I'll kick your ass myself."

"Yeah, I—" Frank stopped as his cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced quickly at the screen before returning his eyes to the road as he answered. "Hey, we were just talking about you."

"'_We' must mean you have Joe with you," _Nancy said.

"He's here with me," Frank said, looking at his brother. "I tried to lose him at the airport but he managed to find me anyway."

"Hey, Nancy!" Joe called out, glaring at Frank. "Remind me to tell you how creepy he looked standing in the middle of the airport, smiling to himself."

"_What is he talking about?"_

"Don't worry about it," Frank said, shooting his own glare at Joe. "Are you home?"

"_Not exactly,"_ she answered. _"The supposed suicide is turning into a full blown murder."_

"What do you mean?"

"_I'll explain it to you when you get here. Are you going to drop Joe off at the apartment?"_

"You honestly think he's going to let me leave him there?"

Nancy let out a sigh on the other end. _"No. Just remind him that while he's here, he's technically a civilian."_

"Yeah, wish me luck with that. I'll see you in a little bit."

"_Be careful. I love you."_

"Love you, too," Frank said before disconnecting the call only to see Joe staring at him eagerly. "What?"

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Now, why would I want to do something like that?"

"Because I'll just annoy the crap out of you until you tell me."

Frank chuckled, knowing that his sibling would do just that. "The suicide Nancy was called out on turned out to be a murder."

"How did that happen?"

"She wouldn't say. She said she would fill me in when I got there."

"You mean when we get there," Joe said, grinning mischievously.

"What are the chances of me convincing you to go to the apartment and wait for us there?"

"No chance at all."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Letting out a sigh, Frank reached forward and turned on the radio to his favorite classic rock station. He'd barely felt himself relaxing before Joe reached over and switched the dial to popular modern station, his head thumping to the beat of a rap song.

_This is going to be a long drive…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nancy let out a yawn as she hung up the phone with Frank. Her night was just beginning and more than anything, she wanted to be home and in bed. As it was, she would be lucky if she managed to get there in the next couple of hours.

"Here you go, Detective."

Nancy turned around at the sound of Papa's voice, nearly jumping in joy at the sight of the large cup of coffee he held in his beefy hands. She took it gratefully, inhaling the deep aroma before taking a timid sip, not wanting to add a burned tongue to her growing list of worries. "Did I look that desperate?"

Papa smiled. "Nah…at least, not to the casual observer anyway. Figured if I came in here with just a cup for myself you may shoot me on the spot."

"I would at least take the cup out of your hands first," Nancy said with her own smile. "I wouldn't want to spill it after all."

"Have you talked to Detective Hardy?"

Nancy nodded. "He's actually on his way here." She glanced around the parking lot, watching as a crowd began to form across the street. "Have you had any luck with the real estate company yet?"

"We finally got in touch with one of the partners. We're just waiting for him to show up with the key so we can get in and figure out what the hell is going on."

"The sooner, the better," Nancy agreed, shivering slightly. "I think the temperature's beginning to drop."

Papa let out a sigh as he looked over at the crowd. "How the hell did anyone get into the building in the first place? It's locked tight…none of our officers could find a way in without using a key."

"I'm not sure."

"It's a rather cruel way to kill a person," Papa continued as if he didn't hear her. "For the victim's sake, I hope he was unconscious before he hit the ground. Nevertheless, we have some psycho running loose on our streets."

"You're right about that."

Papa moved in front of her, blocking her view of the onlookers. "You just make sure you stay safe, Nancy."

Nancy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come on…you're known around the station to be a magnet for trouble." Papa flashed a small smile. "I don't know how, but you always seem to find your way out of it. Believe me—I hope that luck of yours sticks with you for a long time."

"Where is this coming from, Papa?"

"I've been at the station for years. I've seen you grow up since you were little, Nancy. I know you kids refer to me as the grandpa around the department and I've always enjoyed that since I lost my family." Papa reached forward and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "You're truly like a daughter to me, Nancy. I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

Nancy blinked, staring up at the older man. She had no idea what was bringing on the sudden outpouring of emotions and it was scaring her a little, if she had to be honest. Papa never talked about the family he lost all those years ago. His twin daughters had just celebrated their sixth birthday party at the skating rink when their car was struck head-on by a drunk driver. His wife had been killed instantly, along with Hannah. Taylor had lingered in a coma for a few days before Papa had finally had to make the painful decision to remove her from life support.

Nancy was at their birthday party that night and it was only luck that she wasn't in the car with them since they were having a slumber party later that night. The only reason that she wasn't with them was that she had forgotten her overnight bag at home and her father had insisted on picking it up and dropping her off at their house himself.

After the accident, Papa had become depressed, drinking himself nearly to the point of death. Nancy knew the only reason he'd managed to clean himself up was because of Carson Drew—the two men had bonded over the deaths of their loved ones, considering he had lost his own wife when Nancy was only three years old.

"You don't have to worry about me, Papa."

"You say that as if I have a choice."

"You do have a choice."

Papa shook his head. "Not when it comes to you, kid." He glanced up as an officer walked towards them, a sharply dressed man beside him, looking agitated. "Mr. Bradford?"

The businessman nodded. "I don't understand why this couldn't wait until the morning. I was in the middle of a very important dinner meeting."

"Well, you can give us the key and we'll send you back on your way," Papa said with a thin smile.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, Bradford took a key off his key ring and handed it to Papa. "I trust you'll return this to me after you complete your investigation?"

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. In fact, I'll give it back to you personally."

"Yes, well…" Without another word, the realtor turned on his heel and walked back across the street where his Mercedes was waiting.

Papa smiled brightly at Nancy. "Shall we go see what awaits us inside?"


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter has not been beta'd. I apologize for any mistakes.**

**Thank you so much for the reviews and stopping by to read. Please let me know what you think!**

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Four

Toby moved along the crowd, trying not to bring attention to himself as he stared across the street at the police milling around the empty apartment complex. As far as anyone knew, he was just a concerned citizen, curious about what may have happened and worried if this was just an isolated incident or the beginning of something even bigger. He could practically feel the fear everyone in the crowd was projecting, filling him with an intoxication that not even the finest liquor could produce.

There was something to be said about fear—everyone had something they were afraid of, no matter how minute it was. Though for some, it was easier to push it away and pretend it wasn't there.

Fear created an aura around the affected person, ranging in colors, based on their severity. People with a clear or bluish aura had very little to fear or they had managed to push it deep down—though they were extremely rare. People with an orange or reddish hue lived in constant fear. Toby was special in the way that he was the only person who could see it; at least, that's what his mother had told him. Then again, his mother wasn't exactly operating on all cylinders when she had told him years ago.

But as soon as she had told him that, he knew what he was meant to do. He had to release everyone from their fears, give them the freedom they deserved. Sadly, he'd found the only true way to do that was in death, which brought him here tonight.

Toby had never wanted to kill Ben. From what little he had known about him in the group session tonight, he seemed like a really great guy. On any given day, had the circumstances been different, he was sure they could have been good friends. But as soon as Ben had walked into the room, he'd seen the vibrant red aura nearly suffocating the young man. There was no amount of talking or therapy that would have ever freed Ben from his fear.

He had done the young man a favor.

Pulling his jacket a little tighter against his body, Toby surveyed the crowd around him, the colors blurring as they danced all around him. Everywhere he looked, there was a vast array of pinks, oranges, and reds, so dizzying that it almost made him collapse right there on the sidewalk. He could have his pick of anyone there, the anticipation making him almost giddy.

_Pace yourself, Toby, _his mother's voice cautioned him. _You can't just share your gift with anyone. They have to be special. They have to earn it. _

Toby knew she was right—he needed to get out of there and carefully plan his next move. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he started to push through the crowd when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Stepping forward, he had to squint to make sure he was really seeing it. The sea of red slowly drifted apart until there was a clear spot across the street.

The female cop—there was only a flicker of blue around her while the older cop she was talking to was surrounded by red. Toby had seen only one other person like her in his lifetime, back when he was a teenager. He'd been looking for a new challenge and maybe she was it. He wondered if there was some fear she had buried deep or if she truly feared nothing, much like himself.

_That could definitely be interesting…_

As if she sensed him staring at her, she glanced up, their eyes locking momentarily before they returned to the officer she was speaking with. That was all it took for Toby—her image would be seared into his mind forever.

Turning, he pushed his way through the crowd, a smile forming as he made his way down the street.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nancy tried to hide her grin as Papa led the way up the stairs, his breaths coming in heavy gasps as they cleared the third level of stairs. "Just think, Papa…you're over halfway there now. Only two more floors left."

"That's…not…helping," Papa said as he turned his head slightly to glare at Nancy. "They put… elevators in places…like this…for people like…me."

"You could have stayed downstairs."

"And leave all the fun work to you?" Papa asked. "No thanks, kid."

"We may not even find anything when we get up here," Nancy pointed out as they cleared the fourth floor. "This could be just a complete waste of our time."

"Again, you're not helping any."

Chuckling, Nancy followed him the rest of the way up the stairs. Coming to the fifth floor, she pushed the door open and they stepped out onto a long hallway, doors closed tightly on either side of them. Reaching into her pocket, Nancy pulled out her flashlight and flicked it on, the beam playing over everything.

For a building that had been abandoned for months, it actually didn't look too bad. The carpeting looked almost new, the smell of fresh paint still noticeable. Gold numbers on the doors glinted in the beam of the light, the window at the end of the hall welcoming in the moonlight.

"So, which door should we peek behind first?" Papa asked, jingling the keys.

"Our victim's body was found towards the middle of the complex, so I say we start there," Nancy answered as she stepped forward. Their footsteps echoed all around them as they walked the length of the hall, stopping when they reached 515. "Let's see what's behind door number one."

Papa stepped forward, inserting the master key into the lock. Turning it over, the lock offered him very little resistance. Returning the key to his pocket, he pulled out his weapon before gripping the doorknob. Glancing back at Nancy, he saw she had her own weapon drawn, and she nodded at him, signaling that she was ready. Throwing the door open, he stepped back, allowing her to go inside first.

Nancy cautiously made her way inside, the gun held firmly in her hands as she swept the room. She took in every inch of the room, her flashlight sweeping the dark corners. After a minute or so, she holstered her weapon, satisfied that there was no one hiding in there. "It would be nice if we could get the electricity turned on in here."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the apartment was bathed in light as the power kicked on. Turning off her flashlight, she put it on the counter before turning her attention to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony.

"I'm going to take a look around her while you check out the balcony," Papa said.

"Sounds good. Yell at me if you find something." Flipping the latch on the door, Nancy slid it open, the cool autumn air hitting her like a punch. Glancing over the edge, she could see the chalk outline directly below her, knowing her hunch about this apartment was correct.

Letting out a sigh, Nancy started at one end of the balcony, searching for anything that could give her a clue about Ben's death. She let her eyes roam carefully over every inch, not wanting to miss anything.

"Find anything?"

Nancy gasped at the sound of Frank's voice, her hand going up to her chest as she braced herself against the wall. "What the friggin' hell, Frank?"

"Sorry," Frank said, wincing. "I didn't think I was going to scare you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Nancy bit out, trying to get her breathing under control. She knew she tended to get caught up in her work, but she was angry at herself for letting Frank sneak up on her like that. If that had been the killer coming back, she never would have stood a chance. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. A couple of the guys told me that you were up here with Papa."

"Where's Joe?"

"Downstairs, talking to Dr. Gill."

"You didn't warn him about her, did you?" Nancy asked, grinning.

Frank shook his head as he smiled back at her. "I figured I would let him fend for himself."

"She's going to end up tearing him a new one."

"Yeah, that's the idea anyway." Frank stepped further onto the balcony, joining Nancy. "Have you found anything?"

Nancy pushed her hair back away from her face as she pointed near the railing. "There looks to be some small traces of blood but I can't be sure until forensics gets up here. I was only halfway through my search when you showed up."

"Are we sure that it's a murder?"

"That's what Karen is saying, considering the ligature marks she found on his wrists. She'll be able to tell us more once she gets him into autopsy, but that won't be until tomorrow." Nancy continued to search the balcony. "Right now, we're looking for any witnesses who may have seen or heard anything."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure. We don't really have much evidence besides the ligature marks to contradict a suicide."

"But you don't think it's a suicide."

"No." Nancy frowned as something in the corner caught her eye. Bending down, she saw that it was a business card, the corner caught under a forgotten potted plant. Picking it up, she held it out under the beam of her flashlight.

"What did you find?"

"A business card for a Doctor Jonathan Stark—he's a clinical psychologist here in River Heights."

"This is an odd place to find a business card."

Nancy smiled as she looked up at Frank. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"So, it must belong to our killer or our victim."

"There's only one way to find out."

Frank arched an eyebrow at Nancy as her smile grew bigger. "Looks like we get to pay a visit to the doctor tomorrow."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You knew she wasn't going to tell me anything, didn't you?" Joe asked for the fifth time as they climbed the stairs to Nancy and Frank's apartment. Not only was he beyond frustrated that he couldn't get anything out of Doctor Karen Gill while Frank was helping Nancy, but he was starving as well.

"I still don't have any idea what you're talking about, little brother," Frank said, smirking at Nancy as he unlocked the door. Pushing it open, he turned the lights on before keying in the code to the alarm system. "Karen is usually very forthcoming with any information she has."

"Frank's right," Nancy added as she removed her weapon and badge, tucking them into the small dresser by the door. "Or it could be that she has an uncanny ability to know when someone is screwing with her."

"I was only asking innocent questions!" Joe protested.

"Did you flirt with her first?"

"Uh…"

Nancy said nothing as she chuckled and shook her head, walking into the kitchen.

"Congratulations, Joe," Frank said, patting his brother on the back. "You've met the one woman who doesn't fall prey to your charms."

Joe scoffed, dropping his bag on the sofa before taking a seat at the counter. "I'm pretty sure given enough time, I could have swept her off her feet."

"And I'm pretty sure that if you did that, it would get back to Vanessa and she would kick your ass," Nancy said, putting a soda in front of him.

"Why? Would you tell her?"

"I don't have to tell her. She's a woman—she would know."

Frank chuckled as he slipped behind Nancy, putting his arms around her waist. "Nan's telling the truth. It's a power that all women possess."

"If you don't believe me, you could always try it," Nancy said, grinning at Joe. "It will only give me that chance to say 'I told you so' and you know how much I enjoy doing that when it comes to you."

"Yeah," Joe said, glaring. "I've noticed."

Leaning forward, Nancy ruffled Joe's hair. "You know you missed me."

"Maybe just a little," Joe said, smiling at her. "So, you have anything to eat in this place?"

"There may be some leftover pizza in the refrigerator," Frank answered before kissing Nancy on the cheek. "I'm going to go grab a shower."

Getting up from his chair, Joe walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. A Ziploc bag with three pieces of supreme pizza rested on the second shelf and it was all Joe could do not to tear the bag open before he closed the door. His mouth was practically salivating, his last meal having been at breakfast.

"You're not going to warm it up?" Nancy asked, watching as he bit into one of the slices.

"I'd rather eat it cold," Joe answered, swallowing the bite down. "So, what's been going on with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"With you and my brother." He took another bite of pizza, a sausage nearly falling to the floor before he caught it deftly with his right hand.

"Things are going good."

"Really?"

Nancy nodded. "Yeah, I mean there are sometimes moments when I feel he's closed off with me but overall, things are going great."

"I know it wasn't easy for you."

"It's taken some time," Nancy admitted. "I carried around some of my own guilt at the beginning but I've learned to let go of some of it."

"None of it was your fault, Nan," Joe said softly.

"So you keep telling me."

"It's true." Joe grabbed another slice of pizza out of the bag and took a bite. Sensing that Nancy didn't want to talk about it any longer, he decided to change the subject. "So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"Frank and I are going to pay a visit to the doctor we found on the business card."

"You think he may know something?"

"I think it's weird that we found his card at an abandoned building where a man was murdered."

Joe nodded. "You do realize it may be hard for you to get any answers out of him, right? If your victim was a patient, he's going to play the doctor/patient confidentiality card as soon as you walk in the door."

"I know, but it can't hurt to try."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Joe asked, looking up at her hopefully.

Nancy let out a sigh, pushing her hair back from her face. "Joe, you know while you're here, you're just a civilian."

"You and I both know I'm more than just a civilian."

Rolling her eyes, Nancy scooped up the empty Ziploc bag and threw it away. "Let me see where we get with the doctor tomorrow. If it doesn't go our way, then I may just send you in and see what you can get."

Joe smiled, shoving the last bite into his mouth. Lifting up his glass, he held it out to Nancy in salute. "Well, here's to hoping it doesn't go your way."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

By nine the following morning, Frank and Nancy were sitting in the waiting room of Doctor Jonathan Stark's office, waiting as he finished up with his first patient of the day. They hadn't given the psychologist any warning that they were coming, not wanting to give him any chance to prepare for their arrival. Nancy had no idea if he was involved in Ben's death, but she wasn't about to take any chances.

While she was waiting, Nancy took the opportunity to let her eyes roam around the office. It had a modern feel to it, with white walls accented by splashes of yellow and turquoise. A large mural featuring a beach scene covered the wall in front of her entirely, and if she stared at it long enough, she could actually imagine herself there. A beige sectional sofa was in front of the mural, a glass top coffee table between it and the sleek beige chairs she and Frank were currently sitting in. The floors were wood laminate with neutral throw rugs placed strategically throughout the room.

A chuckle from Frank broke Nancy from her exploring and she turned her head to see he was looking through an old issue of _Glamour _magazine. "What are you doing?"

Frank glanced up at her, a slight blush creeping into his cheeks. "I was getting bored. There wasn't anything else to read."

"There are other magazines on the table over there."

"I didn't want to get up."

"Now you just sound like Joe." Nancy smiled as Frank frowned. "So what was so funny in there?"

"It's one of those surveys—they were talking about eleven things men don't understand about women."

Nancy arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

Frank nodded. "It's actually pretty funny."

"Anything in there that you would agree with?" Nancy cocked her head to the side, arching her eyebrow as she stared at Frank.

"Uh…"

"So, there is something you agree with?"

"I never said that."

"Frank, if you turned any more red, you would resemble a fire truck."

Frank shook his head, putting the magazine down on the table. "I am absolutely not answering that question, Nancy Drew. You think I don't know a trap when I see one?"

Nancy's eyes widened slightly, giving her the look of innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, Frank Hardy."

"Right…"

Before Nancy could say anything, the door to Stark's office opened and an older, petite woman with grayish red hair stepped out, clutching a tissue in her hand as she dabbed at her eyes. She was followed by who Nancy presumed to be Dr. Stark, a middle-aged man with red hair who was dressed in black dress pants and a crisp white shirt, offset by a yellow and blue plaid tie.

"We'll resume our conversation at next week's session. I look forward to seeing you at our group therapy, Rosa," Dr. Stark said, flashing her an encouraging smile.

Rosa gave a shaky nod of her head. "Thank you, Dr. Stark."

Stark waited until Rosa was out the door before he even acknowledged the two detectives. "How can I help you?"

Nancy and Frank rose as one, pulling out their badges and flashing them at the psychologist.

If Stark was surprised to see them there, it barely registered on his face. "What can I do for the police?"

Frank pointed at his office. "It would be better if we could go into your office and speak in private."

"Of course." Stark glanced at the receptionist, giving her a warm smile. "Will you please hold my calls, Felicia?"

The young woman nodded, barely glancing up from the computer she was working on. Nancy and Frank followed Stark into his office, taking a seat in front of the massive white oak desk. Nancy saw that the modern theme continued into the spacious office, a yellow contemporary sofa sitting against the wall to her right.

"So, what can I do for you?" Stark asked, linking his fingers together as he leaned forward in his chair.

"We're here to talk to you about a possible murder last night," Nancy said, watching him very closely. "We have reason to believe that the victim or the assailant may have been a patient of yours."

"And what would give you that idea?"

"Probably this," Frank said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out an evidence bag. Inside was the business card that was found on the balcony at the Roosevelt Apartments. "We found that at the scene of a crime last night."

Stark took the bag from Frank, peering closely at the card.

"Last night a man by the name of Benjamin Matthews was found dead at the Roosevelt Apartment Complex," Nancy explained. "It appears that he fell from the fifth story."

"Ben is dead?" Stark asked, his eyes widening in surprise as he glanced up at Nancy and Frank.

"So, you did know him?"

Passing the evidence bag back to Frank, Stark let out a sigh. "He was a patient of mine."

"Can you tell us what you were treating him for?" Frank asked.

"I'm afraid I am not at liberty to discuss that," Stark said, glancing at him apologetically. "Doctor-patient privilege."

_I'm surprised, _Nancy thought. _It only took him five minutes to hit us with that._

"I saw on your website that you specialize in treating people for phobias," Nancy said.

"That's correct."

"Is that what you were treating Ben for?"

"Again, I am not allowed to discuss my patients with you."

Nancy exchanged a look with Frank, seeing that he looked as frustrated as she felt. In their line of work, some of the worst people they had to interview were doctors and lawyers. The irony wasn't lost on Nancy, considering her father was a successful criminal attorney.

"Did Ben ever seem suicidal to you in any of your sessions?" Frank asked.

Stark fixed them with a look, remaining silent.

Nancy took a deep breath, trying to keep her patience in check. She was extremely aggravated with the psychologist, hating how easy it was for him to dodge their questions. If he was concerned at all about Ben, he should be willing to answer their questions. _Maybe he has something to hide..._

"It's an easy enough question, Dr. Stark," Nancy said. "It could help us determine if Ben's death was a suicide, an accident, or a murder."

Letting out a weary sigh, Stark removed his glasses, setting them on his desk. "From the little time I had with Ben, he didn't seem suicidal to me. If he was, then he managed to hide it very well."

"How long had he been in therapy?"

"A few months."

"And he never struck you as suicidal?" Frank asked.

"Never. In fact, he was excited about his upcoming marriage."

Before Nancy could ask another question, the door opened and a man with a bright smile and shaggy red hair came in. Though they didn't look alike, with the red hair alone, he could have passed as Stark's brother or cousin. As soon as he saw Nancy and Frank, he stopped in his tracks, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, taking a step back. "I didn't realize you had anyone in here. Felicia wasn't at her desk."

Stark smiled patiently at the newcomer. "It's quite alright, Toby. Was there something that you needed?"

"I just heard that the new guy from our therapy group died after our session last night." Toby said. His eyes went to the two detectives before they focused on Stark once more. "I was thinking that maybe we could have a memorial for him."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea." Stark waved a hand at Nancy and Frank. "Toby, I would like you to meet Detectives Drew and Hardy. They are actually here to talk to me about Ben."

"Really?" Toby's big brown eyes turned to them. "Did you find out what happened to him?"

"We're in the process of trying to figure that out," Frank said. "Did you know Ben?"

Toby shook his head. "Not really. He just joined our group last night. I tried to get him to go out with a few of us for drinks after our meeting was over but he told me he needed to get home."

"Group?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, it's something that Dr. Stark came up with," Toby said eagerly. "He thought it would help us if we met in a group setting and discussed our fears."

Stark cleared his throat, giving Toby a stern look. Toby instantly shrank back, looking like a child who was just scolded for doing something very bad. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be any more help, detectives. If you will excuse me, I have patients that I have inconvenienced by speaking to you for this long."

Knowing a dismissal when she heard one, Nancy stood up, Frank following suit. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a business card and placed it on Stark's desk. "If there's anything else—"

"I will give you a call. I know the drill, Detective Drew."

Smiling thinly, Nancy turned to leave. "It was very nice to meet you, Toby."

"Oh…the same here, Detective Drew," Toby said softly, avoiding her eyes.

Opening the door, Nancy saw the waiting room was now occupied by several waiting patients. They looked up at her and Frank as they emerged from Stark's office before their eyes went back to their magazines or cell phones.

"So, what did you think of him?" Frank asked as they exited the building. Traffic was starting to flow a little more heavily, the air cool and crisp as they walked to their car.

"You mean besides wanting to hit him every time he told us he couldn't answer a question?" Nancy asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

Frank grinned at her as he started the car. "You don't strike me as a very violent person, Nancy Drew."

"You get the pope to spend five minutes alone with that man and I guarantee he would start swinging."

Laughing, Frank pulled into the flow of traffic. "Well, he certainly didn't want to give us anything. That only makes me think he's hiding something."

"Either that or he really believes in that whole doctor-patient privilege thing," Nancy muttered. "Shouldn't that be irrelevant if a patient dies?"

"You're the one who has an attorney for a father. Maybe you should ask him."

"I think I will." Nancy glanced over at Frank. "Toby seemed a little more forthcoming with information."

Frank nodded. "He did. But I could tell he told us too much, considering Stark pretty much shut him down. He's not going to say anything else with Stark around."

"And Stark will pretty much keep him close to prevent that from happening."

"Yep."

"What if we went at it from a different approach?" Nancy asked as Frank pulled into the parking lot at the police station.

Turning off the car, Frank turned in his seat to look at her. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, we have Joe here…"

"But you said as long as he was here, he was a civilian."

"True, but we both know that wasn't going to last very long."

"Tell me what's going on in that brain of yours, Drew."

Nancy shrugged. "It would be easy enough to send Joe in as Stark's newest patient. He hasn't met Joe so he would have no idea that he was working with us."

Frank chuckled. "Yeah, but if you ask Joe, he'll tell you he's not afraid of anything."

"Everyone has something they're afraid of, Frank."

"Even you?"

"Even me," Nancy said softly. "We don't even get Joe to talk to Stark about Ben. We get him in there so he can get close to the group who Toby was talking about. I'm sure they could tell us something about Ben and maybe even Stark."

"I suppose it could work. After all, there's no way we're getting close to them," Frank admitted. "So, who gets to throw the pitch to McGinnis?"

Nancy arched an eyebrow, holding out her hands. "Rock-paper-scissor for it?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby nearly fell over himself as the detectives left him alone with Stark. He couldn't believe he had been standing only five feet away from her. She was even more radiant up close, the clear aura around her shining brightly. He was surprised that the others hadn't been blinded by the sheer beauty of it.

And the other detective…there was something weird about him as well. The red hues around him had been brighter than he had ever seen on another human being, but it was a different kind of fear. There was something deeply personal about it.

He feared for her—his partner.

Toby could tell by the way the other detective positioned his body as he sat next to her. It was as if he was wired, ready to leap at any threat that may come her way. He feared for her safety the way any other person would fear the dark or something as harmless as a spider.

"Toby, are you listening to anything I've been saying?" Stark asked, breaking into the younger man's thoughts.

Honestly, he had tuned out Stark's voice as soon as the detectives had stood up to leave. His voice had been garbled, almost like the teacher from all of those _Charlie Brown_ movies. Before he could stop himself, he found himself chuckling.

"Am I missing something that was funny?" Stark asked.

"Sorry, Doc," Toby said, sobering completely. _Time to give him the show that he wants from me. _"I didn't mean to say anything about our groups. I was just really excited about the work you've been doing."

Stark's face softened and he smiled at Toby. "It's okay, Toby. We just have to be careful about what we say to the police."

"Why?"

"Because my patients trust me with their privacy," Stark explained as he gathered some of his files. "Even in death, Toby."

"I was just trying to help. I just want to find out what happened to Ben."

"I understand, but from what I have been able to find out, it was a suicide."

_That's what you think,_ Toby thought, smiling to himself.

"Fear can drive people to do unspeakable things—to the people they love and to themselves," Stark continued. "We just have to hope that Ben is in a better place now, hope that he has the peace he was looking for. A place free of fear."

_He understands…_

Toby was practically beside himself with glee. That's why he had come to Stark in the first place, when he first got into town nine months ago. From their very first meeting, the doctor had seemed to connect to him in a way no one else could. Not even his own mother.

"I'm glad that you want to find out what happened to Ben, but I urge you to use caution if you speak to the police, Toby."

"I understand, sir."

Stark smiled brightly. "Good. Now, why don't you see about putting together that memorial for Ben? We can start our next session tomorrow night by honoring him. I think it will help the others cope with his passing."

Nodding eagerly and returning the smile, Toby left the office. Once he was outside and on the street, the smile instantly vanished, replaced with a look of disgust. While he respected Stark and what he did for everyone else, he could never measure to what Toby did for them.

_Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is freedom._

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**The line at the end of this chapter is a quote from American author, Marilyn Ferguson. It summed up Toby's mindset perfectly when it comes to why he does what he does. I love how the majority of you have said that he creeps you out, since that's my intention. But on the upside, you don't have to live with him inside your head.**

**Many, many thanks to everyone who has stopped by to read and have added me to their lists. A special big thanks goes out zenfrodo, Liliththestormgoddess, KennaC, and Caranath for their reviews! They mean much to me!**

**A huge hug goes out to my beta, Roswalyn, who takes the time out of her busy schedule to provide guidance and support.**

**Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Frank sighed to himself as Nancy walked beside him, smirking. He never should have agreed to her rock-paper-scissor challenge, knowing that she was going to win. Of course, it would help if he wasn't so predictable by throwing out paper every time, but he was optimistic by thinking she would one day counter it with the rock.

Unfortunately for Frank, today was not that day.

While he agreed with Nancy's idea, he knew it came with risks as well. He knew Joe would have no problems with going undercover-his little brother was all about action. And even though Frank was usually right there with Joe when it came to getting into trouble, the big brother instinct in him didn't want to put his little brother in harm's way.

It could be that Stark was completely harmless. But there was something about him that rubbed Frank the wrong way. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Arriving at McGinnis's office, Frank took a deep breath before knocking.

"Come in," boomed the chief's voice. He smiled when he saw Nancy and Frank enter. "I was just about to find the two of you. How did it go with Stark?"

Nancy exchanged a look with Frank before they sat down. "Not so well. He practically threw the doctor-patient defense at us as soon as we walked into his office."

"He couldn't tell you anything?"

"Well, he told us he was treating Ben for a few months but he wouldn't tell us what for. When Nan told him we knew he specialized in phobias, he pretty much closed up."

"Do you think he's hiding something?"

Nancy shrugged. "It seemed that way."

"One of his old patients interrupted us accidentally, but he seemed a little bit more willing to talk to us," Frank said.

"Yeah but unfortunately, he was talking to us in front of Stark," Nancy said. "Stark shut him down pretty quickly."

McGinnis frowned. "Do you think you can get this guy to talk to you?"

"Not now...Stark will be watching him closely."

"Which brings us to why we're here," Frank said, leaning forward in his chair. McGinnis said nothing, which Frank took as a sign to continue. "My brother came into town yesterday."

"We were thinking that maybe we could have him help us," Nancy said, nodding at Frank.

"Help you how?" McGinnis's tone was suspicious, but Frank knew he was listening. _If we were anybody else he would have already sent us on our way._

"Toby-Dr. Stark's patient-let it slip that they have group therapy sessions which means there are several people who knew Ben. If Joe goes in pretending to be part of the group, then maybe they open up to him, especially Toby."

"Do you think they'll talk to him?"

"I think it couldn't hurt to try."

McGinnis let out a sigh, his eyes going back and forth to Nancy and Frank. "The only reason I am giving this any consideration is because of the work you and your brother have done in the past and the fact I know he does this with your father."

Frank nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Do you, son? Because if Joe does this and doesn't do it exactly by the book, then this case could fall apart if it goes to court," the chief cautioned. "I won't be able to turn my head like I did when the three of you were teenagers."

"Chief, you don't have to worry about anything," Nancy said. "Frank and I are going to follow this every step of the way. I have a bad feeling this is going to get worse before it gets any better."

"Is this your gut talking?"

"It is."

"Fine. We'll send Joe in and see what he finds out."

Frank nodded, relief flooding through him. He had been nervous approaching McGinnis with their idea. He knew the chief didn't owe them anything, but the fact that he was willing spoke volumes to him.

"Thanks, Chief," Nancy said, rising from her seat. "We'll keep you posted on anything we find out."

"Please see that you do that," McGinnis said. He pointed a finger at Frank. "Make sure you keep your brother in line."

Nancy snorted as she and Frank walked out of the office. "He has a lot of faith in you if he thinks that's possible."

"Let's just keep in mind that this was your idea," Frank reminded her. "I'm only going along with it. Which means that technically, Joe is _your _responsibility."

"Hey, Nancy. Frank." Papa walked towards them, his face slightly flushed, as if he'd been running.

"Hey, Papa," Nancy said, turning her eyes from Frank. "Is everything okay?"

The older man nodded. "I just wanted to catch you before you left again."

"Did something happen?" Frank asked.

"I just spoke with Karen, and it's looking more and more that Ben's death was a murder." Papa smiled. "She was doing the autopsy and she found what she thinks could be a puncture wound."

"Seriously?"

"She said it was there as clear as day."

Nancy smiled. "We find that syringe, we may be able to get some fingerprints."

"We haven't been able to find a syringe yet " Papa said. "But we still have a team out there searching."

Frank frowned. "We're under the presumption that Ben was attacked at the apartments. But he lived on the opposite side of town. What if he was taken from somewhere else?"

"That would make sense," Nancy agreed. "That means he should have a vehicle out there."

"Do you think you can find out what kind of car he drives and put out an APB for it?" Frank asked Papa.

"It shouldn't be too hard to do," Papa said. "I'll let you know if we turn up anything."

"Thanks." Glancing down at his watch, Frank saw it was approaching lunch time. "Why don't we go grab Joe and fill him in while we get some lunch?"

"Sounds good to me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So...Joseph Morgan." Dr. Stark glanced up from the file he was reading to smile at Joe. "What brings you in here to see me?"

Joe squirmed in his chair, remembering what Frank and Nancy had told him the day before. _Be the complete opposite of yourself. Don't let your attitude get in the way and most importantly, don't say or do anything to give yourself away as a detective._

He had to admit he was excited about getting to work undercover, even if it meant he was going to be studied like an insect under a microscope. If there was one thing he didn't like, it was sharing his life with a complete stranger, especially a shrink. There had been only one time he had ever been to a psychologist and that was right after his girlfriend, Iola Morton, had been killed in a car bomb meant for him and Frank.

And even that wasn't willingly. But after severe depression had set in, his parents had become increasingly worried about his mindset. The only reason he'd even agreed to it was to simply humor them. After a few sessions in, he'd become a good actor, pretending he was benefitting from it until everyone finally agreed he was okay.

So, yeah...being here was definitely not on his top ten list of things to do while visiting River Heights. And based on what Nancy and Frank had told him about Stark, it wasn't going to be a pleasant undercover gig.

Joe cleared his throat, wringing his hands in his lap. "I heard that you may be able to help me."

"Well, that depends on what you need help with."

"Right," Joe said, taking a deep breath. He was about to touch on the very thing that had sent him to a shrink all those years ago. But he knew he needed to sell his fear if he was going to throw it out there, so why not make it personal? "It's fire..."

Stark made a note on the legal pad resting in his lap. "What about fire?"

"A few years ago, my girlfriend at the time was killed. There was an explosion and I watched it happen," Joe said, swallowing hard. "There was nothing I could do for her."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. Is that when your fear of fire started?"

Joe nodded.

"How has it impacted your everyday life?"

"Well, I can't be around matches or a lighter. If I see one, I start freaking out."

"Freaking out how?"

"I start feeling anxious...scared. I begin to shake all over," Joe said, surprising himself with how easily the lies were coming. "And that's minor compared to how I am around an actual fire."

"Do you care to elaborate?"

_Not really,_ Joe thought. "I can't even look at a candle without wondering if the flame will leap away and catch the room on fire with me trapped inside. Barbecues are completely out of the question unless I get there after the food's been cooked."

Joe cringed as his stomach growled at the mention of food. Glancing up at Stark, he saw the doctor didn't hear it as he continued to scribble on his pad.

"So, is that where the real fear lies?" Stark asked, pulling his glasses away from his face. He narrowed his eyes as he studied Joe.

"What do you mean?" _Turn your spotlight the other way, dude._

"Fire scares you because you feel as if you'll be trapped by it, just like you saw what happened to your girlfriend," Stark said. "It's a very real fear, Joe. Especially after witnessing something as horrific as you did."

Joe's fists clenched in his lap, his knuckles turning white. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want some complete stranger telling him how he should feel. It took a few seconds for Joe to relax, knowing that he had set himself up for this. _Just focus on what you were sent in here to do._

"I guess that's true," Joe admitted.

Stark nodded, writing in the book. "What do you hope comes out of our sessions together?"

Shrugging, Joe glanced up at the psychologist. "I just want to be able to move on with my life. I want to be able to live without any fear."

"That's good, Joseph." Closing his notebook, he smiled at Joe. "I know this is only our first session together, but I would like to try something with you."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I have started a group therapy session that meets a couple of times a week. Our next meeting is actually tomorrow night."

_Bingo._

"How is a group supposed to help me?" Joe asked, keeping his tone neutral. The last thing he needed to do was give himself away and screw it all up.

"Well, I have found in my studies that when my patient has an intimate group of peers they can relate to, it provides them with support and confidence to conquer their fears."

Joe nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

Stark smiled. "So, I can count you in?"

"Do you think it will help?"

"I think it couldn't hurt to try." Stark leaned forward in his chair when Joe remained silent. "How about this? Why don't you come tomorrow night and see what it's about? You don't even have to talk if you don't want to. If you don't think it's right for you, we'll stick to office visits like this."

Joe stared at him, not saying anything even though he knew he was going to that group meeting the next night. After a few more seconds of Stark flashing that fake ass encouraging smile at him, he finally relented.

"Sounds like a plan, Doc."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Something smells good in here," Frank said as he walked out of the bathroom, running a towel through his damp hair.

Nancy looked up and nearly dropped the spoon when she saw Frank. He was standing in the entryway of the hall, his chest gleaming as droplets of water trailed down in little rivulets. A towel was wrapped around his waist, showing the perfectly etched lines of his abs. Nancy never realized she made a sound until she saw Frank smiling at her.

"See something you like?"

Blushing, Nancy turned away from him, stirring the marinara sauce as if it was about to jump up and run away from her. She had to do anything to get her mind off of Frank and what she would rather be doing with him at that very moment.

"Don't tell me I just managed to do the impossible," Frank said, sliding up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I think I just made you blush."

Smiling, Nancy tried to pull away from him. "Stop distracting me."

"Why?"

Nancy laughed as he nuzzled her neck, kissing her skin tenderly. "Because the food is going to burn if you don't stop."

"We can always order takeout."

"No way." Turning around, Nancy's blue eyes met his brown ones. "It's not very often we get a home cooked meal, Frank Hardy. Besides, I made your favorite tonight."

"Chicken parmesan?"

"Mm-hmm," Nancy said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You wouldn't want all my hard work to go to waste, would you?"

Glancing down at her, Frank pressed his forehead against hers. "We could just turn it off and leave it here for a little bit. Work up an appetite."

"You're impossible, you know that, right?"

"I've been called many things before." He kissed her softly. "Come on, Nan..."

Nancy moaned as she gave in to the kiss, feeling her resolve melt as her hands trailed up his bare back. Reaching behind her blindly, she turned the knob on the stove until it clicked, signaling that it was off. She let out a startled yelp as Frank picked her up. Her legs wrapped around him as they continued to kiss.

_There is only one thing that can ruin this moment..._

"Oh, please tell me you're not about to go at it on the kitchen table," Joe's voice called out from behind them.

Nancy jerked away from Frank as if she had been shocked. "Joe"!"

"You could have at least put a sock on the door to let me know not to come in," Joe said, grinning as Frank eased Nancy to the ground. "This must be what a kid feels like when they walk in on their parents doing it."

Frank ignored his brother as he kissed Nancy again. "I'm going to go get dressed." Pulling away from her, he reached out and punched Joe on the arm as he passed his sibling.

"Hey!"

"You kind of deserved that," Nancy said, smiling as Joe rubbed his arm where Frank had hit him. "Though, I guess it is our fault for giving you a key in the first place."

"After what I just saw, I may need to go back into therapy."

"Funny." Nancy nodded towards a cabinet as she turned back to the stove. "Why don't you make yourself useful and grab some plates for me."

"It smells good," Joe commented as he did what Nancy instructed. "I never knew you could cook."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Nancy said.

"Like what?"

"I'm not about to share all my secrets with you."

"Fair enough," Joe said as he put the plates down on the counter beside the stove. "Anything else I can do?"

"Sure. Grab some drinks from the fridge and help me carry all of this to the table." Taking a plate from the stack, Nancy scooped a hearty helping of the chicken parmesan onto each dish. A fresh garden salad and French bread slices were already on the table waiting for them.

Frank came into the kitchen just as the last of the plates were put onto the table. The three detectives sat down and began their meal in companionable silence.

"If you weren't such a great detective, Nan, I would tell you to become a chef," Joe commented as he stuffed a piece of the bread into his mouth.

"I'm not that great, Joe. Everything I learned about cooking was from Hannah," Nancy said, speaking about the housekeeper who had lived with Nancy and her father since her mother had died all those years ago.

"That's enough of a reference for me."

"How did it go with the shrink?" Frank asked, smiling at his brother. "Did he tell you what we always expected? That you're crazy?"

"I don't need some crackpot doctor to tell me that," Joe said, glaring at Frank. "But I get why the two of you were annoyed with him. I was ready to slap the hell out of him after five minutes."

"See?" Nancy said, pointing at Frank. "I'm not the only one."

"The difference between you and Joe is that he would actually do it."

Joe nodded. "He's right."

Nancy chuckled. "So how did it go?"

"Well, I got in. Stark thinks I would benefit from group therapy."

Frank frowned. "How did you convince him? What did you tell him?"

"I told him what he wanted to hear."

"Joe..."

"I told him that I was afraid of fire," Joe said, not bothering to meet their eyes, especially Frank's. "I told him about Iola."

"Son of a bitch!" Frank said, his fork clattering to the plate. "What the hell, Joe?"

"Hey, you're the one who told me to sell it, so I did."

"By using the one thing that ever scared you the most? Not only did it screw with your head but it's actually something you fear."

"Frank's right," Nancy said, looking at Joe worriedly. "You should have made up something, Joe."

"Well, it's too late now."

"I don't like it," Frank said, shaking his head. "It puts you too much at risk. You think this killer won't set his sights on you?"

"I'm always at risk, Frank. It's part of the job." Pushing his plate away, Joe stood up. "I'm going to grab a shower and give you some time to cool off. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you when you're like this."

Frank started to rise. "Joe, wait..."

Nancy reached out a hand and grabbed his arm. "Just leave him, Frank. He only did what we asked. You can't fault him for that."

"It doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"You're not supposed to like it."

"I guess..."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "He's going to be fine. You'll see."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Many, many thanks to Caranath, bhar, Liliththestormgoddess, zenfrodo, hlahabibty, Amy McGee, lightwari, KennaC, Mrs. Frank Hardy, SarahE7191, and Michelle Gallichio! I loved reading every single one of your reviews and I am so happy that you are enjoying it! Also, thanks to everyone who has stopped by to read and add me to their alerts! It is very much appreciated!**

**And, of course, I can't forget my awesome beta, Roswalyn! **

**Next chapter coming soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Rosa Gonzales was, for the most part, content with the life she had lived. If she could have changed just one thing, it would be the paralyzing fear she had let control her every waking moment. What bothered her the most was that she had no rational explanation for her fear. It was something she had dealt with since she could remember.

Her entire life had been centered on her fear of the dark. When she was little, the only time she would stay the night at someone's house was if she had a nightlight and had gone over while it was still daylight. If she ever went out on a date, her parents were required to wait up for her with every single light on in the house.

She had never been to a theater to see a movie after trying it one time when she was a teenager. As soon as the lights had gone down at the start of the movie, she'd screamed and bolted, hiding in the bathroom until one of her friends had found her. After that incident, high school had been pretty much impossible. It had gotten so bad, she'd convinced her parents to have her transferred.

When she finally graduated from high school, she immediately enrolled in college, choosing elementary education as her major because of the work hours it provided. She was able to leave her house during the day and return before it got dark.

Finally, three years ago, it got to be too much for her.

She had pretty much become a recluse, refusing to leave her house once she was safely inside. So many times she had been invited to go out with her coworkers, and every time she had come up with a new excuse as to why she couldn't. It had finally become too much and she had gone to Dr. Stark for intensive therapy, going three times a week.

After a couple of years, he had suggested that she begin group therapy. At first, she had been hesitant, realizing what a huge step it would be for her to actually admit her faults with a group of strangers. Dr. Stark had even accommodated her by holding the sessions during the daytime.

But that all changed this week. It was the first week that he had held group therapy during the night, saying it was time for her to move forward. He felt that she was ready to reclaim her life from her fears.

If she had known that one of their members was going to die, she would have argued it with everything that she had. Though she had only met the young man that night, his death still resonated with her. It was that heavy reminder that the dark was to be feared.

Toby had called her last night and told her he planned to do a memorial for Ben, which she thought was really touching. She had even agreed to meet him and help with the preparations.

It wasn't exactly how she had planned to spend her Saturday, but she was always willing to lend a helping hand.

Pulling into the parking lot of the community center, she saw that Toby's small red pickup was the only car in the otherwise vacant lot. She had always liked Toby-he had a way of calming her down when she felt herself on the verge of a panic attack. The way he was with the other members of the group showed that he really cared for them, even when she was sure he had his own problems to deal with.

She always thought it was strange that he had never disclosed to the group what his fear was and Dr. Stark never seemed anxious to have him share it with them.

Grabbing her keys out of the ignition, she pulled her knit cap over her head and braced herself against the chilly air as she opened the door. Shutting it behind her, she hit the lock feature on the remote. Satisfied with the click of the locks, she walked to the back entrance of the brick building and let herself in.

The interior of the building was dark and eerily quiet, her footsteps echoing down the hall. For a fleeting moment, Rosa thought about turning around and running back to her car. She could feel her breath coming in short gasps, a tightness forming in her chest.

_It's okay, Rosa. Just breathe. There's a light at the end of the hall. Just focus on that and walk towards it._

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to put one foot in front of the other. Soon, the distance between her and the end of the hall was growing smaller and smaller. _You're doing well...you're almost there._

"Rosa, is that you?" Toby's voice called. He stepped out into the hallway and smiled at her. "Sorry about the lights...a fuse must have blown or something."

"It's okay," she assured him.

His smile grew bigger. "Hey, you're making progress! You actually just walked down the hall all by yourself."

"Don't give me too much credit," Rosa said, laughing. "I was very close to running back to my car."

"But you didn't. That's what matters."

"I suppose."

"Well, I have everything in here if you want to see it," Toby said, turning and walking towards the large room.

Clutching her purse tightly, Rosa followed him into the room. There was a long table behind the circle of chairs, a beige tablecloth adorning it. Napkins, plates, cups, and utensils sat at one end while the rest of the table remained bare.

"I didn't know there was going to be food tonight. I would have brought something," Rosa said.

Toby waved her off. "It was sort of a last minute thought. I'm just going to grab some sandwiches and sides from the deli down the street."

Rosa nodded. "Well, what would you like me to help you with?"

"I actually have a picture of Ben that needs to be mounted so I can put it on the easel by the table. Do you mind doing that?"

"No, not at all." Putting down her purse, Rosa walked over to the table and saw the blown up picture of Ben. "Do you have the supplies?"

Toby frowned. "They're not right there?"

"I don't see them."

"I must have left them in my car," Toby said. "Do you mind helping me grab them?"

"No, not at all," Rosa said, smiling at the younger man as she followed him out.

She stuck close to him as they made their way down the dark hallway, surprising herself with how calm she was. While the voice in the back of her head chided her because she wasn't exactly doing it alone, she still took the win.

The chilly air greeted them as Toby pushed the door open, allowing Rosa to go out first.

"I parked over here on the side," Toby said, leading the way. He handed her his keys. "Will you grab the plastic bag out of the trunk? I need to get something in the car."

"Sure." Inserting the key into the lock, Rosa opened the trunk, blocking her view of the car. Reaching inside, she retrieved the plastic bag just as she felt arms grabbing her roughly from behind.

Before she could even think about screaming, a hand clamped down on her mouth and she felt something sharp prick her neck. She struggled with her assailant with everything she had, her vision swimming as she slowly began to realize she had been drugged.

_Where's Toby? What's happening?_

Rosa's struggles became weaker before the one thing that she feared the most overtook her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Humming was the first sound that she became aware of.

The second thing was the darkness as she slowly opened her eyes. Everywhere she looked, the inky blackness greeted her from all directions. She felt as if it was closing in all around her, her chest tightening as panic sank in.

Rosa tried to reach out, but found that she couldn't move her hands apart. They were tied tightly in front of her. It took another second for her to realize the same thing had happened to her feet.

"Help..." she said in a strained whisper. She took a deep breath and tried again, louder this time. "Help!"

The humming instantly stopped and she let out a terrified scream as a knock sounded above her.

"I was worried that I had given you too much," a man's voice said. "It doesn't benefit you if you're asleep."

_Whose voice is that? Is that..._She let out a strangled gasp as she recognized Toby's voice. "Toby! Where am I? Help me!"

"That is exactly what I am doing, sweet Rosa."

"What are you talking about? I can't see anything...where am I?"

"Something I made special to help you overcome your fear," Toby said, hitting the box. "The only way to overcome your fear is to face it head on."

Rosa tried to move, but a hard surface met her at every way. She could barely lift her head a few inches before knocking it on the surface above her, pain instantly seizing her as she momentarily saw stars. "Let me out of here!" she screamed.

"Not until you are able to free yourself from this paralyzing fear you have of the dark."

"You honestly think this is the way it's going to happen?" Rosa let out a small whimper as a tear trailed down the side of her face. "Please, don't do this to me."

"I'm not doing anything to you." Toby hit the top of the box again before his voice rose in anger. "I am trying to help you!"

Letting out a terrified scream, Rosa hit at the surface above her, kicking angrily. She kept hitting and kicking until her energy ran out. "Don't do this to me! I don't need your help, Toby." She hated herself for crying. "Dr. Stark is helping me!"

"By talking to you? Tell me, Rosa...has that really helped you?"

"Yes!" Rosa screamed. "Please, just let me out of here!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I am doing what's right! I am setting you free, just like I did for Ben."

Rosa could feel her eyes widen as what Toby admitted sank in. She felt as if someone had poured ice cold water down her throat, as the feeling seeped into every inch of her body. "What did you just say?"

"I set Benjamin free. He was special, just like you are."

"Why would you do that? Why would you kill Ben?"

"I didn't kill Ben. I gave him the freedom he had been searching for. I could see it on him, just like I can see it on you, Rosa."

"See what?"

"The fear...the longing to be free from it. I can give that to you. It's my gift that I was given to share with others."

"The only thing I want to be free from is this box! Let me out of here!"

Toby ignored her as he continued on. "Pretty soon, the darkness will consume you. You'll start to feel panic set in but that will only be the fear wanting to come out. You have to let it come out, Rosa, or you will never truly be free."

"Please..." Rosa choked out as sobs wracked her body. _I just want to go home._

"That's the fear talking. Deep down, you don't want me to let you out. You know this is the right thing to do. You know you want this to happen, Rosa."

"_No!_" Rosa began kicking and hitting at the box again with renewed vigor. She had to get out of there. She couldn't die like this. She had to break out of there!

The darkness was closing in all around her, choking her. Suffocating her. She was going to die here, consumed by the very thing that had controlled her from the very start of her life.

She continued to scratch and hit her bound hands on the wood above her, pain blasting though her as her nails split and she began rubbing the tips of her fingers raw. Blood dripped down on her face but she didn't stop her efforts. She was going to get out of that box or die trying.

Rosa kept screaming, even after her voice refused to work for her. She didn't even realize she started bashing her head against the box until she felt stickiness underneath her neck.

_Keep going, Rosa. You have to keep doing it. It's your only way out._

There finally came a point when the voice in her head was right-she didn't feel pain or fear.

She was free.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby waited for a full five minutes once the struggles stopped inside the box before he stood up. Opening it, he found Rosa, bloody and beaten, but she looked at peace, just as he knew she would be.

She had been a difficult one to convince but in the end, he truly believed he had given her the very thing she had been seeking her entire life. It was always hard at first to convince them, but in the end, they usually came around.

_"You've set another one free..."_ his mother's voice echoed in his head. He smiled as he heard the pride in her tone. He had always wanted to make his mother proud.

He didn't even have time to do anything with Rosa's body but he could easily take care of that after the meeting. He needed to run home and change and still pick up the refreshments.

Closing the lid to the crate, he glanced at his watch and saw that he was cutting it close. The members of the therapy group would be arriving soon and Stark had told him there would be a new member tonight.

Toby smiled to himself as he wondered what the newest member would offer him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**So, this was a smaller chapter without our intrepid trio but they will be back full force in the next one. **

**Once again, I would love to thank everyone who has stopped by to read. A big shout out to the following people for leaving reviews: Mrs. Frank Hardy, bhar, SarahE7191, Liliththestormgoddess, Caranath, KennaC, Michelle Gallichio, zenfrodo, and Marinebrat0311. **

**I appreciate all of you guys for taking the time to let me know what you think!**

**This chapter was not beta'd, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. **

**Until next time, readers!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Joe Hardy was having some serious regrets.

For instance, maybe he shouldn't have cut Penny Mullin's pigtail when they were in elementary school. Maybe he shouldn't have told Frank's first girlfriend that his brother slept with a nightlight when he was still fifteen. Maybe he shouldn't have grabbed that convenience store burrito on his way to the therapy group because he was definitely going to pay for it along with everyone else if the rumbling in his stomach was any indication at all.

But his biggest regret was sitting in a room full of strangers, listening to them go on and on about some of the most outrageous fears he had ever heard in his life. It had been really difficult for him not to laugh when one of the women had stood up and admitted she was terrified of balloons.

Seriously. Balloons.

What the hell was so terrifying about a friggin' latex balloon?

And then there was the man who was afraid of clowns. Yes, they were scary as hell and freaky with all that makeup. Joe would personally never go up to one himself, but he also wasn't about to run screaming from one either.

Then there were your basic fears: flying, spiders, snakes, and heights. Those he could overlook. For the most part, he tuned everyone out as they spoke, taking the time to study each person, looking for anyone who might stand out as the next potential victim.

Joe supposed that anyone there would fit the killer's preference. If he was playing on their fears, then they were practically giving him the murder weapon he needed. The story basically wrote itself.

From time to time, Joe found his eyes going to Stark. For the most part, Stark really seemed genuine as he talked to each person in turn, asking them questions and giving them the encouragement they needed if they started to panic. If he turned out to be the killer, then he was as twisted as they came.

"Joseph?"

Joe slightly jumped, startled out of his thoughts by Stark's voice. "Sorry?"

Stark smiled patiently. "I was asking if you would like to share your story with the rest of the group tonight. Remember, it has to be your decision and we will support you with whatever you decide."

"Maybe next time," Joe said, glancing down at his hands. He hated acting so meek and nervous since it went completely against his personality. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Stark said, though he looked slightly disappointed. He glanced around the room, frowning. "Has anyone seen Rosa tonight?"

A murmur went up around the room as the group shook their heads, talking amongst themselves.

"Maybe she didn't feel well," a young man with red hair commented. It was the first time he had spoken all night.

"Wasn't she supposed to help you today, Toby?" Stark asked.

Toby nodded. "She was, but she never showed up. I thought she had just forgotten to call me."

Joe said nothing as he watched the group. His mind was already working overtime as he thought about the missing woman. The fact that one of their members had already been murdered didn't escape him. Sure, Rosa could simply be sick and her being missing could be an absolute coincidence.

But there was only one problem with that: Joe Hardy didn't believe in coincidence. Especially not in his line of work.

"I'll call on Rosa as soon as our group ends tonight," Stark said. He nodded at Toby, who stood up. "Toby thought it would be a good idea for us to have a moment to remember Ben."

Walking to the middle of the circle, Toby looked solemn as he eyed each person. "I know Ben had just joined our group and we didn't really know him, but I thought I would say a few words anyway."

While Toby spoke to the group, Joe watched each person, seeing how they reacted. He was slightly disappointed when everyone seemed to really mourn the young man they barely knew. _Either they had nothing to do with Ben's death or someone in this room is a really good actor._

The only person who seemed disinterested was Stark, though he was putting on quite a show to make the others think he was. It was too bad for him that Joe was good at reading body language. Stark's body was rigid, his eyes casting nervous glances around the room. He also couldn't stop shaking his leg, which was usually the telltale sign of anxiety. As soon as he saw someone glance his way, the doctor would plaster a strategically placed somber expression on his face, his eyes doting out sympathetic glances at the others.

_So what exactly are you hiding, Doc?_

"I think we should maybe feel as if Ben's death was a blessing in disguise," Toby was saying, causing Joe to return his attention to him. "At least now, he is in a place where he can be free from his fears."

_Yeah, I really don't think plummeting to your death would be considered a blessing, _Joe thought wryly. _And I really don't think that his family would agree with that statement, either._

But he had to give Toby some credit. Everyone else was buying it and nodding their heads in agreement.

"I picked up some refreshments from the deli down the road," Toby said, pointing at the table in the back of the room. "There is also some coffee and soda. Feel free to help yourselves."

Never one to pass up on food, free or otherwise, Joe got up with the others and walked over to the table. Picking up a plate, he helped himself to a couple of the sandwiches and cheese and crackers. Pouring himself a glass of soda, he walked over and sat on one of the wooden crates along the far wall.

"You don't really like to say a lot, do you?"

Joe glanced up to see that Toby had walked over to join him. "I think it's more of a case of nerves," Joe lied. "You don't seem to say much, either."

Toby chuckled as he shook his head. "Nah...I'm mainly here for support for the others. Dr. Stark has been treating me for years and thought it would be a good idea to have me here since I could relate to them."

"What are you seeing Stark for?"

"Pretty much anything you could think of. I didn't have one set fear. There were a lot of things and he's slowly helped me through them."

"So, he's good at what he does?" Joe asked, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. "He's not just some crackpot, looking to make a dollar off of us?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's still here to make a dollar off of us." Toby smiled. "But, yeah, he's really good at what he does."

Joe nodded as he glanced at Stark, who was standing with a couple of group members. He still wasn't sure what to make of the doctor himself, and he hoped he wasn't just putting up a front with his patients.

_I still think he's worth checking out..._

"So, what about you?"

Joe looked up to see that Toby was staring at him. "What about me?"

"Why are you here tonight?"

Joe shrugged, about to answer when a scream tore through the room. Jerking his head to look behind him, he saw a young woman with a hand to her mouth as she pointed to something on the floor. Dropping his plate on the crate he was sitting on, he raced over to her to see what had terrified her.

A feeling of dread washed over him as he recognized the reddish-brown substance pooling underneath one of the other crates.

_Blood._

Spotting a crowbar to his right, Joe picked it up. Taking a deep breath, he was acutely aware of the crowd forming around him, murmuring. He tuned them out, focusing on the task at hand. Wedging the tip of the crowbar under the lid, he pressed down on it, applying pressure until it popped open.

A whiff of blood and death instantly assailed his nostrils. It took every bit of self control for Joe not to heave on the spot. For a second, he thought about not even opening the box, but he knew it was already too late for that. Besides, he now had a group of people who were looking at him anxiously.

Dropping the crowbar to the floor, he gripped the lid of the box and pulled it open. Once again, his stomach threatened to spill its contents at the sight of the mangled and bloodied body of a woman.

"Somebody call nine-one-one," Joe said, his eyes riveted on the corpse. When he didn't hear any activity behind him, he whirled on the crowd, his eyes wide. "Now!"

The room became a flurry of activity as several of the members pulled out their cell phones and dialed. Joe paid them no attention as he turned back to the body, his fists clenching at the barbarity of the woman's death.

He had a feeling he knew who the woman was as soon as Stark swore softly beside him.

"I take it this is Rosa?" Joe asked, glancing at the older man.

Stark nodded, his face an unreadable mask. Joe couldn't tell if he was afraid or nervous or a little bit of both.

"The police are on the way!" Toby called. Joe turned his head to see that the redheaded man had ushered the group back to their seats.

"You seem pretty calm about this, all things considered," Stark commented.

Joe shrugged indifferently. "This isn't exactly the first body I've found."

He was thankful Stark didn't have time to question him further as sirens pierced the air as they descended upon the community center.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Though it was only a three minute drive from the police station, Nancy was nervous as they made their way to the community center. She had no idea what awaited them there, only that Joe was there. And though Frank didn't voice it, she knew they were both praying that his brother was okay.

They were the first to arrive on the scene, three or four squad cars behind them. Nancy was out of the car before Frank came to a complete stop.

"Seal the perimeter and start searching out here!" Nancy called back to Papa. "Frank and I will head inside and see what's going on."

She heard Papa bark out orders as she and Frank went inside. Walking into the large room, she breathed a small sigh of relief when she saw Joe standing to one side of the room with Stark, and she felt Frank relax beside her. Now that they knew Joe was okay, they could get to work.

"We got a call about a body," Frank said.

Joe nodded as he stepped forward, holding out his hand to Frank. Nancy bit back a smile as he introduced himself, marveling over how Joe was able to pretend he didn't know them. "I'm Joseph Morgan. I'm the one who discovered the body after I heard one of the ladies screaming."

"Have you touched anything around the body?"

Joe shook his head. "I've watched enough crime shows to know not to touch anything. The only thing I touched was the crowbar and the lid. I didn't ever expect to find a dead woman in there."

Frank nodded. "Can the two of you step back to the rest of the group?" He raised his voice so he could be heard by everyone. "No one leaves until we have questioned you and give you permission to go."

Nancy saw how hard it was for Joe to step back with the others, knowing he wanted nothing more than to be with them as they investigated. Pulling on a pair of gloves, she helped Frank pry the lid off the crate, not prepared for what was inside.

The woman was barely recognizable, blood covering her face. It was as if someone had taken a baseball bat to her and beat her mercilessly. Nancy could see that her hands and feet were bound tightly with ropes.

"Nan…"

Frank had his penlight out, and it was shining at the lid that they both held in their hands.

"Oh, God," Nancy whispered, almost dropping the lid. "No…"

There was no mistaking the scratch marks on the inside of the lid or the pieces of flesh that hung in the deep gouges. The killer had put the woman in there while she was still alive and she had fought with everything she had in order to try to get out.

"Look right there," Frank said, pointing at a concentrated area of blood. "It's consistent with the injuries on her head and face."

"She panicked. She was so desperate to get out of there that she did this to herself."

Frank nodded, but he didn't say anything as he continued to peer at the woman. Nancy didn't miss the anger that flashed briefly in his brown eyes. It was bad enough to murder an innocent person, but to make them suffer as this victim clearly had was another thing entirely.

"He's escalating and we're only on victim number two," Nancy said softly.

"And we've sent Joe right into the thick of it," Frank muttered.

"Now's not the time to worry about that, Frank," Nancy warned as the group watched them closely. "We can talk about it when we get home."

"So, what have we got tonight?" Karen Gill asked, clutching her medical kit tightly in her gloved hands. She nodded over to where Joe was standing. "What's your brother doing here, Frank?"

"He's doing some undercover work for us," Frank explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "So, pretend you don't know him."

"That should be easy enough to do." She grinned at him before stepping forward to peer inside the crate. "Yikes. I know I was complaining last week about it being slow as far as homicides went, but did you guys have to take me so seriously?"

"Believe me, Karen, we were not expecting this when we came here," Nancy said with a sigh. "I don't think we'll need you to tell us how she died though. It looks pretty obvious from all of the blood."

"Sick son of a bitch," the medical examiner muttered. Sliding her hands into a pair of latex gloves, she began her cursory examination of the victim. "Did you two see this?"

"See what?"

Karen pushed away the woman's hair from her neck, showing them a very distinct puncture wound. "She was drugged."

"Just like Ben Matthews," Frank said.

"Yep."

"Did you ever find out what he was given?"

Karen nodded. "I actually just got the report back about thirty minutes ago. There were traces of Phenobarbital in his system."

"Phenobarbital? That's something pretty easy to get your hands on."

"If you know where to look."

Nancy glanced behind them, her eyes on Stark. "Someone like a psychologist?"

"Legally, no," Karen said. "A psychologist can't prescribe medication. But I'm sure it wouldn't be hard for one to use their connections to score some. You know, just hypothetically speaking."

"We'll get out of your way and let you get to work," Frank said, pulling Nancy away from the body. "Let's go see what we can find out from the group."

Turning away from Karen and her team, Nancy pulled off her gloves and walked with Frank to the group huddled across the room. Each person wore anxious expressions, even Joe, though Nancy knew he was just playing his part.

Frank had his notepad and pen out before they even stopped. "Who wants to tell us what happened?"

A young woman turned to them, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Her makeup was smeared from where her tears had trailed down her cheeks. "We were...eating...and talking...and...and I saw...blood!"

Nancy stifled a sigh and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Dealing with hysterical witnesses was part of the gig. It didn't mean that she had to like it, though. When Joe stepped forward, it took all of her willpower not to run and hug him.

"Angela is still having a hard time getting herself together," Joe said. "I ran over to her and saw the blood. It looked as if it was coming from the crate so I opened it and found the body."

"Did any of you hear anything strange during your meeting tonight?" Nancy asked. "Maybe knocking or screams?"

The group looked around at each other, shaking their heads.

"Are you suggesting that she could have been dying while we were sitting in here?" Stark asked, his eyes wide.

"We're not sure of anything right now, Dr. Stark," Frank said. "We're just asking questions."

"Did any of you recognize the woman in the box?" Nancy asked.

Stark nodded. "Her name was Rosa Gonzales. She was a patient of mine."

Nancy exchanged a look with Frank, knowing they were thinking along the same lines. _No way in hell was this just a coincidence._

"Do you mind joining us at the station, doctor?" Frank asked.

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not at the moment. We would just like to ask you some more questions."

"I'd really hate to leave my patients while all of this nastiness is happening."

"They'll be fine. Our officers will also be questioning them," Nancy said. "You, of all people, should want to get some answers."

"Of course I do." Stark seemed indignant at the implication of Nancy's words. "May I take my own car?"

Nancy smiled sweetly at him. "Sure. But we will follow you."

Stark glared at Nancy before turning to Toby. "You will make sure everyone gets to their cars safely?"

Toby nodded. "Sure, doc."

"All of you might as well make yourselves comfortable," Frank said. "No one gets to leave until we're finished here."

Nancy locked eyes with Joe, nodding slightly at the younger Hardy. Then, turning on her heel, she followed Frank and Stark out of the community center.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby felt as if he was floating as he stared at the female detective. She was literally standing only a few feet away from him, so close that he could reach out and touch her. He could feel his hand tingling, the need to come into contact with her so overwhelming and intoxicating.

He wondered how that would feel, considering he had never met anyone like her before. Someone who possessed the same aura as he did. Would it fill him with euphoria? Would it be like a drug he couldn't stop himself from taking once he started? Would it have the opposite effect on him, taking away his gift?

Toby didn't know for sure, but he was dying to find out.

She barely looked his way as they addressed the group. Sure, she had been courteous to him the day they met in Stark's office. Maybe he hadn't been memorable enough for her.

Maybe he needed to make himself be known.

But how to do that?

The deaths were already pretty epic. He was proud of what he had done so far but maybe he needed to step up his game. Maybe it was time to strike closer to her.

The new guy wouldn't work, at least not yet. Toby had no idea what it was that Joe feared but there would be time to figure that out. He could go after her partner since it was obvious that there was something more going on between the two of them.

_No. Too soon._

He let his eyes trail across the room as the two detectives left with the doctor. And there he saw his perfect opportunity.

Toby tried not to let his smile show as his eyes lit upon his next target.

_Yep...that would definitely get her attention._

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Huge thanks to the following for the amazing reviews: zenfrodo, Michelle Gallichio, Caranath, Liliththestormgoddess, Mrs. Frank Hardy, KennaC, SarahE7191, bhar, rangermaid, and cupcake. I am so happy that you are enjoying it!**

**Also, a big thanks to everyone who is adding me to their alert lists!**

**And of course, this story would not be possible without my awesome beta, roswalyn! Thank you so much, chick!**

**See you soon with the next update! **


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Frank stared at the two-way mirror, watching from the other side, as Stark took a sip of water from the paper cup in front of him. He still couldn't decide what to make of him; he just knew something was off. It was strange that the two victims had been his patients. And while Frank didn't believe in coincidence, it would be one hell of a huge one if it turned out the doctor was innocent in all of this.

This last death was particularly horrendous, so much so that it made his insides churn, not to mention, he'd heard a couple of officers had gotten sick from looking at the body. Frank usually had a pretty high tolerance for gruesomeness, but what had happened to that woman was simply barbaric.

No one should have to die the way she did.

Frank knew it affected Nancy, though she wouldn't ever admit it to him. He'd seen just a tiny flicker of fear cross her face when they had seen Rosa's body, and then it was gone. During the car ride back to the station, she wouldn't say a thing about it to him, even when he brought it up. Frank knew not to push Nancy when she didn't want to talk, and he had wisely kept his mouth shut.

But they were going to have to talk about it eventually. It was dangerous to keep things bottled up on a case like this. They couldn't pretend it wasn't bothering them, especially knowing that Joe was now in the middle of it. Frank wanted nothing more than to grab his little brother up and put him on the first flight back to Bayport.

But it was too late for that now.

"Has he done anything?" Nancy's voice was soft as she stood beside him.

Frank looked down at her, seeing the set line to her lips as she looked at Stark. "No, he's just been sitting there." He saw that she held a file in her slender hands. "What's that?"

Nancy turned her eyes away from the mirror to the file she was holding. "I figured we could have a little story time about our favorite doctor."

Frank took the folder from her and browsed through it. He let out a low whistle when he finished reading it. "Maybe we're right to suspect Stark, after all."

"Want to see if he'll be honest with us before we drop it on him?"

"Good cop, bad cop?"

"I was thinking more like bad cop, pissed off cop," Nancy said, looking up at Frank. There was no way he could miss the fire burning in her blue eyes. He had a feeling whom was going to play the latter of the two cops.

Frank grinned at her. "Heaven help him after you're finished."

"Damn straight." Turning on her heel, she pushed the door open to the interrogation room.

Stark watched silently as the two detectives approached, taking the two chairs in front of him. "It took you long enough. I was starting to feel like a criminal sitting in here."

"Do you have a reason to feel like that?" Frank asked.

"Of course not."

"Then it seems to me you have nothing to worry about."

"Would you mind telling us where you were all day?" Nancy asked, leveling her gaze at the man.

"I was seeing patients."

"On a Saturday?"

"I don't exactly conduct banker's hours," Stark said, his voice dripping heavily with sarcasm. "It would be nice if I could, but I can't."

"I'm sure your wife would love that," Frank said.

"I'm divorced, and believe me, she doesn't mind the hours I work, considering the generous amount I pay her in alimony."

"Yikes."

Stark sighed. "Are we going to get to the real reason you brought me here or did you want to continue to pry into my personal life?"

"Can anyone verify you were seeing patients today?" Nancy asked.

"Felicia had the day off."

"What about your patients?"

"What about them?"

"We're going to need names and contact information so we can corroborate your alibi," Frank said.

"I'm not at liberty to disclose that information."

Nancy slammed her hands against the table, startling them all. Normally, she had the most patience out of them both. This sudden change had Frank staring at her in surprise.

"Do you not understand what the hell is going on?" Nancy demanded. "We have two dead people who were both under _your _care! As of right now, you are our main suspect!"

Stark looked at her calmly. "May I ask why I am your main suspect?"

"Probably because you're not telling us everything that we need to know. Every time we ask you a question, you either dodge it or clam up."

Stark said nothing as he continued to stare at Nancy.

Frank stepped in, seeing that Nancy was about to lose it. It would do them no good if she lost her temper or worse. _Maybe that's what the son of a bitch is hoping for,_ Frank thought bitterly. _Just waiting to cash in on that potential lawsuit._ "Tell us about Nashville."

"What about it?" Stark turned his eyes to Frank, his body stiffening slightly.

_Gotcha. _"It seems as if you had a thriving clinic there two years ago when you all of a sudden closed up shop and moved to Chicago before finally settling down here in River Heights."

"I needed a change of scenery."

Nancy smiled slightly as she picked up Stark's file and flipped through it. "That's not what it says in here."

The doctor grew silent, glaring at Nancy.

"Let's see...well, it says here that you were stripped of your license to practice in the state of Tennessee."

"That was a misunderstanding," Stark said through gritted teeth.

"What kind of misunderstanding?" Frank asked.

"That has nothing to do with what is happening now."

"I think I can answer that," Nancy said, looking up from the file. "You had some extreme methods for treating your patients, isn't that right, Dr. Stark?"

"I was helping them," Stark said, practically seething. He was like a nuclear bomb about to detonate in the small room.

"By forcing them to face their fears?"

"I never forced them to do anything."

"You drove one of your former patients to suicide because of your radical treatment," Nancy said, arching a brow. She glanced over at Frank. "Doesn't this sound like déjà vu to you?"

Stark let out a guttural scream as he stood up, throwing himself at Nancy, his hands reaching for her throat. Nancy realized what was happening a second too late to move away in time, but Frank reacted immediately. Just as Stark's fingers brushed against her throat, Frank dived at the doctor, collapsing with him to the floor. Before Stark could even think about pushing Frank off of him, the detective had his gun out, shoving it into the back of Stark's neck.

"Don't move!" Frank snarled.

Nancy jerked up from her chair, her hand brushing against her neck just as the door burst open and two officers came running in. They immediately went to Frank's aid, subduing the struggling psychologist and cuffing his hands behind his back.

"Get him out of here!" Frank yelled. "I want him charged with assault against an officer!"

The energy seemed to pour out of Stark as he sagged in the officers' grip, his feet practically dragging as they escorted him from the room. Frank wasted no time as he went to Nancy, taking her face between his hands as he looked over her carefully.

"Are you okay?" he demanded.

Nancy brought her hands up to his, nodding. "I'm okay, Frank. He didn't get a chance to do anything to me before you decided to go all Eli Manning on his ass."

Frank chuckled, amused that Nancy had managed to make a reference to his favorite football team, the New York Giants. While she tolerated him spending Sundays watching the games, he never thought she really paid much attention to it. "Could you be any hotter than you are right now?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Don't be too impressed, Hardy. I honestly just picked the first name I remembered."

Smiling, he gave her a kiss, knowing full well that anyone watching on the other side of the mirror could see them. For a second, he thought about holding out his middle finger, but figured that would be too childish.

And Frank Hardy was anything but childish.

"So," Nancy began as they broke apart. "I guess we got a reaction out of Stark."

Frank bent down and picked up the chairs, pushing them under the table. "You call that a reaction?"

"Would you prefer 'overreaction'?"

"Please tell me you did not do that on purpose, Drew," Frank said, closing his eyes with a sigh when Nancy didn't dispute it. "I swear, you are going to send me to an early grave."

Nancy smiled brightly at him. "I just enjoy keeping you on your toes."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"_If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?"_

Papa snorted bitterly as he tossed back his shot of whiskey, letting the amber liquid work its magic as it burned a fiery path down his throat. The lyrics of _Freebird_ resonated clearly in his head, and he thought it was ironic how it was playing on the anniversary of the accident that took away anything that had ever mattered to him.

Tonight marked fifteen years. His girls would have been twenty-one. He would have been married to the love of his life for seventeen years. But in a moment of someone's idiocy and bright headlights, everything was ripped apart from him, leaving a gaping wound in his heart.

He signaled the bartender for another shot, hating how he was allowing himself to be weak. While he thought about his family every year on the anniversary, he'd never allowed himself to get down like this. He'd learned his lesson the hard way, though it had taken Carson Drew and Nancy to show him that his life was worth living after all. It wasn't doing anything for his family's memories for him to be sitting in this bar at one in the morning, getting wasted.

Papa blamed their latest case for his moment of weakness. It was more brutal than anything they had dealt with in a long time. He honestly had no idea what could cause a person to act in the way that this killer was. When he thought about the way that the victims were being senselessly taken away from their loved ones, it brought all of his suppressed feelings back up to the surface.

He knew how the families of the victims felt. He could relate to them more than anyone else on the force. He knew the hollow feeling that formed inside, and seemed to consume everything in its grasp. He never wished that kind of anguish on anyone, not even his worst enemy. It was a pain no one should ever have to go through, though he knew they didn't live in a perfect world.

People didn't get to live until ripe old ages, only to fall asleep one night and not wake up. It would be nice if that was the case, but as long as the world kept going along, there were always going to be others who cared for nothing and only wanted to create chaos.

Nodding at the bartender, he took the shot glass and threw the alcohol back, wincing as the bite of the liquor made its way down his throat.

"You're Officer Crawford, aren't you?"

Papa glanced to his left, blinking owlishly at the young man who had taken the stool beside him. "You look familiar…"

The young man smiled, holding up two fingers to the bartender. "I'm Toby. I was at the community center tonight. You interviewed me."

"That's right," Papa said, nodding. He vaguely remembered the red head as being very cooperative and anxious to find out what was going on. "Don't you know it's too late to be out here, kid?"

"I couldn't sleep," Toby admitted. "I just can't get Rosa's body out of my mind every time I close my eyes."

Papa nodded understandingly.

"I mean, what kind of person could do something that cruel?"

"That's a question for the ages, and one I'm afraid I don't have an answer for."

Toby handed some money to the bartender as he took the two shots from him. He pushed one over to Papa. "You look like you could use another one."

"I really shouldn't…" Papa said, looking at the glass longingly. "I have to go in for my shift in a few hours."

"That means you still have a few hours to sleep it off." Toby held out his glass in salute to Papa. "Come on, I'd really hate to drink alone."

Letting out a sigh, Papa picked up the glass, clinking it softly against Toby's. "Here's to getting that sick son of a bitch off the street."

Toby smiled thinly, nodding his head in agreement before tossing the drink back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Papa let out a soft groan, wishing the drum solo pounding away in his head would just go away. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this. _Maybe those last few drinks had been a bad idea. I should have listened to that little voice in my head._

Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see that he was sitting in the driver's seat of his Ford truck. He was even more surprised to see that his hands were secured to the steering wheel by a pair of handcuffs. He was pretty sure if he looked at his belt, he would find his missing. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but found that he couldn't, realizing a piece of tape was covering it.

_What the hell?_

He tried to sit up as straight as he could, seeing that he was sitting at the top of a hill, overlooking the downtown area of River Heights. His truck was running but he had no idea how or why. All he knew was that he needed to try to get free and out of there.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

Papa jumped at the sound of Toby's voice, finding the young man standing beside the driver's side window. He tried to jerk away from him as he reached in and tore the tape away from his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?" Papa demanded as Toby retrieved a towel from his pocket and began rubbing his hands on it. "Did you do this to me?"

"I did."

"Why?"

"Oh, come on…you haven't figured it out by now?" Putting the towel away, Toby rested his arms against the door, smiling at Papa. "I don't know if you know this or not, but you are quite the talker when you're completely wasted."

"What are you talking about?" Papa pulled against the cuffs, ignoring the pain as the metal bit cruelly into his skin.

"In the course of an hour, I managed to get your life story out of you. It's amazing you can even get out of bed in the mornings, your life is so pathetic." His eyes were gleaming as he stared at Papa. "You made one fatal mistake though—you let me in on your little secret."

"What secret?"

Toby leaned closer, arching a brow. "You told me your fear."

Papa's eyes widened as he realized the truth about the kid standing beside him. "It was you."

"It was me."

"Why?" Papa asked, horrified. "Why would you do those horrible things to those innocent people?"

"Because I was helping them. Because I saw their fears, saw how it was eating away at them, and I wanted to deliver them from those fears. I wanted to set them free."

"You're out of your mind."

Toby shook his head. "I'm not. I was given a gift, but it would have been selfish to keep it myself. I wanted to share it with those I found worthy of receiving it. I could see the way their fears were consuming them. Just like the way you allow your fear to consume you."

"And what fear is that?"

"Becoming the very thing that took your family away from you."

Papa's blood ran cold at the simplicity of Toby's words. He began struggling in earnest, against the cuffs, desperate to get free. A very morbid picture was beginning to take shape in his head, sure he had a pretty decent idea where this was going.

"What's wrong, Officer Crawford? You don't look so well."

Ignoring him, Papa pressed against the horn, panicking when it didn't make a sound.

"I took the liberty of disarming your horn for you," Toby said. "After all, we wouldn't want to wake everyone, would we?"

"Don't do this, son. It's not too late to turn this around," Papa said. "I can help you."

"But that's just it…I don't need any help." Taking the piece of tape, he once again secured it over Papa's mouth, silencing any more protests. "I bet you're wondering what's going to happen now, aren't you?"

Papa grunted behind the gag, sweat pouring down his face as he stared at Toby with wide, fearful eyes.

"It's simple, really. After I put your truck into gear, you're going to go for a little drive. And don't worry about slamming on the brakes because I took the liberty of cutting the lines." Toby's smile grew. "Let's just hope that luck is on your side and you don't kill some innocent family. You really should have listened to that bartender and turned over your keys over to him like he asked you to do."

Papa let out a scream, trying to launch himself at Toby.

"Oh, and one more thing," Toby said, dropping his voice. "You never were really supposed to die. I saw the way she was with you, almost like a father/daughter relationship. It's sweet, really."

_Nancy! He's talking about Nancy! _Papa began shaking his head vehemently as Toby reached across him and brought the gear shift down. Running purely on fear, Papa brought his head forward, connecting with Toby's.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Toby snarled, glaring at Papa. "I guess you've figured it out by now, haven't you? There's nothing you can do about it. She's going to notice me and then I'm going to take my time figuring out what makes her tick. How's that for realizing you're going to die, carrying that knowledge with you?"

Taking care to just reach his arm across Papa, he grabbed the gear stick and shoved it down to drive. Jumping back, he gave the older man a little wave. "Drive safe."

That was the last words Papa heard before his truck went racing uncontrollably down the hill before it crashed into a concrete light pole.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed: Caranath, Liliththestormgoddess, Mrs. Frank Hardy, hlahabibty, zenfrodo, bhar, rangermaid, SarahE7191, Michelle Gallichio, Bookfanatic67, and unobtrusivescribe. I really appreciate all your kind words!**

**Until next time!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Nancy rubbed at her eyes, willing herself to focus on the computer screen in front of her. She didn't even want to look at her watch, afraid to see how late into the night it really was. She was surprised Frank hadn't called or showed up at the precinct yet, especially after she had promised him she would be home an hour after he left.

The paperwork was mounting and she really didn't want to put it off any longer. At least, that was what she was telling herself, not wanting to voice the real reason she was staying late at work. The truth was the case was hitting her hard, leaving her shaken and fearful for what the killer would do next.

There honestly didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the killings, at least in their eyes. But a killer like this was unpredictable. Nancy knew his reasons for the murders could be something that only made sense to him. Nine out of ten times, that turned out to be the case. And that only meant it would make it that much more difficult for them to stop him.

Nancy wanted to believe that maybe they had their killer in Stark. Everything was adding up to point to him being the person responsible. He had the history of radical treatment, which seemed to be the methods the killer was using. The victims were his patients. He wouldn't reveal anything that could exonerate him.

Not to mention the way he'd lashed out at Nancy when she'd brought up his history. She truly hoped that by having him in custody, the murders would come to a stop once and for all. She knew she would sleep better if that turned out to be the case.

"Hey, Drew! Shut it down and go home!" McGinnis yelled as he made his way out of his office. He stopped by her desk, perching himself on the corner. "You should have gone home hours ago."

Nancy shook her head. "My mind is racing too much. It wouldn't have done me any good to go home."

"I'm surprised Hardy let you stick around by yourself."

"He's not that bad," Nancy said, smiling.

"That boy wouldn't know what to do with himself if you were ever gone for more than a day," McGinnis said. "I may be old, Nancy, but I still recognize the signs of love. He's got it bad for you."

Nancy felt a slight blush creep up into her cheeks at his words. She knew what she felt and saw when she was with Frank, but for someone else to voice it to her made her feel weird somehow.

"Get home." McGinnis stood up, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Try to get some sleep."

Nodding, Nancy shut down her computer, turning off the small desk lamp. Grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, she slipped it on before taking her keys out of her purse. Giving a wave to the desk sergeant, she pushed the door open and walked briskly to her car.

As soon as she was inside, she cranked the heat up on high and retrieved her cell phone. She wasn't surprised when Frank answered on the first ring. "Hey, just letting you know I should be home in about fifteen minutes."

Hanging up, she turned the radio to one of her favorite stations, putting up the volume as loud as she could stand it, wanting the steady beats to pulse through her and help clear her mind. Within a few seconds, she found herself singing and bopping her head to the song.

Just as she was about to pull out onto the road, a truck sped by her, swerving uncontrollably. It was followed a few moments later by a terrifying crash. Praying silently to herself for the driver or any innocent bystanders, Nancy pulled out and rushed to the scene.

The truck was totaled, smoke pouring out of the front as it stood smashed against a concrete light pole. But it was still recognizable enough to cause her blood to run cold. She knew that truck as well as she knew the back of her hand. It was a green older model Ford and there was only one in town like it.

"Papa..." she whispered, her blue eyes wide.

Nancy slammed on her brakes, throwing the door open before she had put it into park. She hoped she was wrong. She didn't want to walk to the front to see Papa there. She honestly didn't know if she could stand that. Of course, she didn't want to see anyone else hurt either, but she prayed against everything it wasn't him.

Unfortunately, no one was listening to her prayers and her fears were confirmed when she found a bloody Papa slumped against the steering wheel. Reaching in tentatively, she gently pushed him back, letting out a cry at the sight that greeted her. The older cop had been bound and gagged, blood oozing down from a deep gash on his forehead.

"Hey, is everything okay?" a female voice asked.

_I can't breathe. Oh, God...please, tell me this is some kind of sick joke. Please!_

"Ma'am?"

Somehow, Nancy found her voice, though it sounded weak to her ears. "Call nine-one-one. Hurry!"

The woman let out a strangled gasp when she saw Papa, but did as Nancy instructed. Tuning her out, Nancy forced all of her attention on Papa. She still had no idea if he was dead or alive. With a shaking hand, she reached for his neck, feeling for a pulse, her heart soaring when she felt a very faint one.

_I have to get him out of there! _Gripping the handle, she jerked with all her might, but it refused to budge. She jumped as sparks flew above her head, the light threatening to topple over the wrecked truck. "No, don't do this, please! Open up, dammit!"

"An ambulance is on the way," the woman called out to her.

Nancy waved her off, continuing to jerk on the door. Nothing else mattered. She had to get him out of there before they both ended up crushed by the massive concrete pole. There was also every chance the truck could explode, the smell of oil and gasoline so strong it nearly threatened to knock her out. She couldn't let Papa die.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the door popped open, the force of it nearly knocking her to the ground. Vaguely, she was aware of her face being wet. It took a few seconds for her to realize that she was crying.

Reaching for her belt, she pulled out the keys to the handcuffs. She found her hands shaking as she tried to insert the key into the small hole, and she had to stop for a second to regain control of her composure. "Just hold on, Papa. I'm going to get you out of here and you're going to be okay."

Sirens grew louder in the distance just as she released his hands from the steering wheel. She pocketed the key before reaching in and pulling Papa into her arms. She had no idea how badly he was injured, but nothing mattered at that point but getting him away from the mangled truck.

Grunting with exertion, she managed to free him after a few more moments. Gripping him as tightly as she dared, she pulled him away from the truck to a clear spot on the grass just as the light pole gave a sickening groan and fell on top of the truck. Nancy threw her body over his until she was sure it was safe from flying debris. Turning his head towards her, she removed the tape over his mouth, trying to ignore the way he wasn't responding to her.

"Please, don't let me be too late," she whispered as she once again felt for his pulse. Fear stabbed at her as she felt nothing beneath her fingertips. "No...no!"

Propping herself up on her knees, Nancy began chest compressions, counting to herself silently before giving him mouth-to-mouth. She checked again for a pulse, but still found nothing. She was like a robot as she continued with her life saving attempts, her mind completely void of anything else.

Nancy was so caught up in it, she didn't hear the ambulance come to a screeching halt behind her along with several police cars. She put up a violent struggle as hands reached out for her, pulling her away from Papa.

"Let me go! I have to help him!" Nancy screamed.

"Calm down, Detective Drew," one of the officers said, pulling her away. "You have to let the paramedics in to help him."

Sagging in the officer's grip, she let him lead her back to her car. She knew he was just telling her that to get her to relax, but she knew the outcome even as the paramedics worked frantically to revive Papa. Her mind was already trying to process it even as they looked at each other and sadly shook their heads.

He was dead.

Numbness washed over her as she felt herself check out mentally. She thought she had imagined it when one of the officers had mentioned they had called Frank for her until he was standing there in front of her. She felt herself shaking as she looked up at him, tears in her eyes. She didn't even have to say anything as he knelt down in front of her, clutching him tightly as she began sobbing into his shoulder.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Frank let out a tired sigh as he softly closed the door to the bedroom he shared with Nancy. They had finally gotten home around three after sticking around so Nancy could answer the same endless questions over and over again. It had taken until five-thirty for Nancy to fall asleep, but even that had been helped along by sleeping medication he had tricked her into taking.

He honestly couldn't remember a time he had seen her so broken. It had nearly ripped his heart in half when she had clutched him tightly and cried. When they had gotten home, he'd helped her to the bedroom and just lay with her as she continued to cry. He didn't even try to offer her words of encouragement or condolence, knowing that it would do nothing to comfort her.

Nancy never was one to show weakness. There may have fleeting moments of it every once in a while, but for her to completely break down was something that was totally new for him. He didn't like seeing her this way, but at the same time, it made her more endearing to him, showing that she was human like everyone else.

That revelation shocked him more than it probably should have.

"I made some coffee if you want some," Joe said as Frank walked into the kitchen.

Nodding his thanks, Frank took a cup from the cabinet and poured himself some, not bothering to doctor it up like he usually would. He had a feeling the next few hours were going to be absolute hell and he needed all the stimulation he could get.

"Is she asleep?" Joe asked, keeping his voice low.

"For the most part," Frank said, sitting beside his brother. "I honestly don't know how long it's going to last. And I'm pretty sure when she does wake up, she'll want to kill me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I drugged her."

"You better hope she's in a forgiving mood," Joe said, letting out a low whistle. "I still can't believe she had to witness that."

Frank shrugged. "I don't think she was supposed to. She just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Still...she's taking it really hard."

"She hasn't really said anything to me, but I think she's blaming herself, wondering what she could have done differently."

Joe gripped his hands around his cup, shaking his head in disgust. "There was nothing she _could _have done. The killer knew exactly what he was doing to make sure Papa never survived."

"You try telling her that."

"This goes completely against his pattern so far. He's been targeting people from the group until now, so what made him change?"

Frank grit his teeth, his mind already going over the sudden change in victims. There was only reason the killer would have gone after Papa. "He's making it personal. He wanted to strike out at us. He's taunting us."

"Are you sure he wanted to go after all of you, or one person specifically?"

"What are you talking about?"

Joe angled his body so he was facing Frank. "Think about it. He could have gone after anyone on the force and it would have still had the same impact on you. But he chose Papa. Why would he do that?"

Frank frowned. "Nancy..."

"She was the closest to him. He practically helped raise her from all the time she spent at the station while her dad was working on cases."

"But why Papa?" Frank asked. "McGinnis would have been a more obvious choice."

"McGinnis also doesn't go out into public much anymore. Not to mention, he's nearly impossible to touch," Joe pointed out. "Besides, we have to assume the killer has been watching you. He's seen Papa at every crime scene, not the chief."

"So, he wanted to send a message," Frank muttered.

"Not just any message. He wanted to make it personal. For Nancy." Joe leveled his gaze at Frank. "I'm not the one you should be worrying about, Frank."

Frank shook his head. "I should be worrying about you just as much as I'm worrying about her. Nancy, I can protect. But you being at these meetings, you have no protection at all unless you blow your cover."

"I'll be fine, Frank."

"Haven't you learned not to say that?" Frank asked, letting out a groan. "Every time one of us says that, something bad always happens."

"Well, I'm choosing to be optimistic," Joe said with a grin. Then he sobered. "Seriously, bro...you need to keep an eye on Nan. If our killer is using innocent victims to send her a message, then there's no way to predict what he would have in store for her. And you know it has to be something big."

Closing his eyes, Frank ran his hand over his mouth. "I wish things could just be simple for once."

"We wouldn't have the first clue about what to do if things were simple."

"I'd be willing to learn."

Joe stood up, chuckling as he shook his head. "You'd run out of patience before they could teach you the first thing."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_She couldn't remember a time she had been so nervous in her life as she stood backstage, waiting to go on stage. Miss Richards had finally given her the chance to perform the solo at this year's recital. At first, she had been excited and happy to have the opportunity, but now that it was time to go on stage, Nancy couldn't stop the butterflies in her stomach._

_She just needed to calm down, take a deep breath, and do exactly as she had practiced every day for the past three weeks. She could do this; she knew she could._

_Seven year old Nancy listened as the audience grew quiet, signaling her cue. Taking one more deep breath, she strode onto the dark stage and took her place in the middle. Striking a pose, she blinked as the spotlight suddenly shined on her._

_And froze._

_She couldn't do this. She was going to mess everything up and Miss Richards would kick her out of her class. Her eyes were wide as she looked out into the audience, searching for anyone who could put her at ease. She just needed that one familiar face._

_There he was, right there in the third row. As if he could sense her unease, he stood up and smiled at her. He was just a shadow, but she recognized him instantly and smiled._

_Papa._

_As he stepped into the light, her smile quickly faded, replaced with utter terror. Blood poured down Papa's forehead, his eyes a milky white. His mouth was opened and as he reached out his arms to her, Nancy let out a scream._

Nancy awoke with a start, sweat drenching her body as she looked wildly around the room. Glancing at the clock, the red digital numbers told her it was just after five. Looking out the window as dusk began to settle in, she knew that it was in the evening. She had managed to sleep the entire day away.

_Correction—_ the sleeping pills that Frank had slipped her had made her sleep the day away. She knew she _should_ be mad at him. She didn't like to be tricked, especially by someone she loved and who was supposed to love her back. But despite all of that, she knew why he did it.

He was concerned about her. She couldn't exactly blame him after the way she had fallen apart after Papa's death. Part of her hoped it had all been a horrible nightmare, but she knew that she could never dream up something so horrible.

Papa was dead and she couldn't do a damn thing to save him.

Tears trailed down her cheeks and she threw back the covers in frustration. Stalking to the bathroom, she closed the door behind her and fell against it. She didn't like feeling like she was weak and she had always associated crying with weakness. It was the one reason she rarely allowed herself to go there.

Nancy Drew wasn't supposed to be weak and pathetic. As soon as anyone saw that vulnerability, they could exploit it and turn it against her. In her line of work, that could turn out to be a very fatal mistake and one she couldn't afford to make.

Pushing away from the door, she walked over to the sink and glanced at her reflection. What she saw was not the face she was accustomed to. Her eyes were red and dark circles cast shadows underneath them. She looked almost pale, her cheeks lacking their usual natural rosy complexion. She didn't miss the faint lines around her mouth or the corners of her eyes.

She looked like crap.

Turning on the faucet, she scooped up cold water and splashed it on her face, feeling herself perk up just a bit. Taking one of the small towels hanging next to the sink, she patted her face dry. Then taking a brush, she pulled it through her reddish blonde hair, before securing her hair in a messy bun.

Feeling slightly better about her appearance, she gave her reflection an approving nod. Opening the door, she stepped out into the bedroom and grabbed her cell phone. Walking out into the hallway, she was surprised to hear silence, figuring for sure that Frank or Joe would be around, afraid to let her out of their sight.

It made her feel better that they weren't, allowing her to have some time with her thoughts. There was a lot to be done, starting with Papa's funeral. He didn't have any surviving family, so Nancy knew it would be up to her and her father, Carson, and the police department to ensure he received a proper burial.

That thought alone caused her heart to ache, her mind still trying to process the fact that he was dead. When she walked into work, he wouldn't be there to greet her anymore. He wouldn't be there to listen to her complain or act as a sounding board when she got stuck on a case.

Her throat tightened as a sob tried to escape her lips, but she somehow pushed it down. There would be plenty of time to cry later. Right now, she needed to focus.

Coffee. That would give her the jolt she needed.

Walking to the coffee pot, she prepared it, making it as strong as she could possibly stand. Turning it on, she began putting clean dishes away just as her phone began buzzing on the counter. Picking it up, she frowned when she didn't recognize the number.

"Detective Drew. Can I help you?"

Silence lagged on for a few moments. Nancy was about to hang up when a voice finally spoke up. _"I'm surprised to hear you pick up, Detective."_

Nancy frowned at the unfamiliar voice, unsure if it was a man or a woman. "Who is this?"

_"I choose to keep that information to myself for the time being."_

"And I don't have the time to screw around with you. I'm hanging up."

_"I'm sure you don't, with this case you're working, not to mention the loss of someone who was very close to you."_

Nancy gripped the phone tightly. "I'll ask again. Who the hell is this?"

_"I was wondering how I could get you to notice me, and it finally hit me," _the voice said. _"Strike at you from the heart."_

"Why? Why do you want me to notice you?" Nancy sank down into a chair at the table, feeling her insides turn cold.

_"Because I want to get to know you."_

"You think I haven't noticed you, after all of those innocent people you've killed? You're all I've been thinking about."

_"Really? It seems to me, that you've been giving all of your attention to Dr. Stark."_

"Are you saying we've been looking at the wrong person?"

_"I'm curious, Detective," _the voice said, ignoring her question. _"What is it that you fear?"_

"I'm not playing your game," Nancy said, her voice cold.

_"Yes, you will. Because if you don't, then I will continue to lash out at you. I wonder how many more people I can take away from you... There's your father. Chief McGinnis. Your fiancé—he's also your partner, isn't he?"_

Nancy closed her eyes, a chill running down her spine. "What do you want?"

_"I want I know what makes you different from all of the others. What makes you special like me?"_

"I'm nothing like you."

The person on the other end chuckled. _"Yes, you are. Even more than you realize. We're special, Detective. I've never found another who was like me."_

"What are you talking about?"

_"All in due time. We shall be meeting very soon. And when we do..." _The mystery person took a deep breath, before letting out what could only be described as a pleasurable sigh. _"I'm going to enjoy taking my time getting to know everything about you."_

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Answer me, you son of a bitch!"

Instead of a response, Nancy was met with silence. He had hung up.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Again, a huge thanks to: unobtrusivescribe, Caranath, Liliththestormgoddess, Michelle Gallichio, Marinebrat0311, Mrs. Frank Hardy, zenfrodo, Devlin Ross, ChocolateChip03, hlahabibty, KennaC, cupcake, and nicolelylewis! Your reviews mean so much to me!**

**Also, I have to thank my fabulous beta, roswalyn! Much love, chick!**

**I'll see you soon for another update! **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Like most everyone else, Nancy was not a big fan of funerals. She didn't like the sadness or the sea of black as the mourners gathered to say goodbye. She didn't like the sympathetic looks or the unpleasantness of the situation as people struggled with something encouraging to say. She never understood the need for an elaborate ceremony to say goodbye, preferring the old days when the family would gather around and old pine box and say there farewells to the deceased.

A police funeral took it to another level entirely. Officers from all across the country would gather to mourn one of their own, even if they didn't know the deceased. When an officer died in the line of duty, it was a death that was felt throughout the law enforcement community. It resonated with each officer deeply, igniting a passion to find the party responsible and bring them to justice.

Nancy couldn't disagree with that feeling. She wanted this killer to pay for what he had done, especially after he had made it so personal towards her. She still couldn't get that voice out of her head, even after three days. He had wanted to get a reaction out of her, and he had achieved his goal.

She had kept the phone call to herself, not wanting to alert Frank and cause him to freak out. Lord knows he was looking for any opportunity after Papa's death, especially after he and Joe had determined that Papa was killed just to strike at her. Every time she bought about that, it made her sick to her stomach.

Standing straight, Nancy braced herself as Papa's casket was brought into the cemetery. She was dressed in her uniform as was much of the crowd. Carson Drew was standing to her left, Frank to her right. Though Joe had wanted to come and show his respect, they figured it would be safer if he stayed back at the apartment. Now, more than ever, they were determined to catch this killer. And that meant making sure that the killer had no idea Joe was linked to them.

Nancy couldn't take her eyes off the gray casket as it was put on the rack above the burial plot. No matter how much she wanted to, her eyes just wouldn't listen to her. This was going to make it final-she was going to have to deal with it, but she wouldn't do it now. She couldn't afford to break apart now.

She glanced down as she felt pressure on her hand, seeing that her father had taken her hand in his. She looked up at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his mouth set into a firm line.

Nancy jumped as sudden gunshots pierced the air, breathing a little easier when she realized they were giving Papa a twenty-one gun salute. Each shot was like a piece of her heart was being ripped out. This wasn't fair. She shouldn't be saying goodbye to Papa today. It should have been years from now.

"You okay?" Frank whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Nancy nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth, she would start crying. She was glad that he didn't argue it, instead giving her a sympathetic glance.

The rest of the service passed in a blur, which she was grateful for. The sooner she could get away from there and the crowd of people, the better she would feel.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the reception?" Frank asked as the mourners began walking back to their cars.

Nancy shook her head. "I just want to go back to work so we can take this killer down. I'm not doing anything for Papa by sitting around, eating and talking with a bunch of people."

"Nan..."

"I know what you're going to say, Frank. You're going to tell me I should wait until tomorrow, but I can't. I've already been away from the case for three days. I want to go back to work."

Frank opened his mouth to argue, but closed it quickly when he saw the look she was giving him. Instead, he stepped forward and held out his hand to her father. "Carson, I really am sorry about Papa. Nancy told me how close the two of you were."

Carson shook Frank's hand, giving him a tired smile. "Thank you, Frank." He turned to Nancy. "Hannah would really like for you to come over this weekend for dinner."

Nancy nodded, giving her father a hug. "I will. We'll bring Joe along, so make sure she has extras."

Carson smiled down at her. "She'll enjoy that." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Please be careful, honey."

"I will."

Turning away, Carson walked over to Chief McGinnis, leaving Nancy and Frank alone. With one last look at Papa's casket, Nancy took Frank's hand and they walked towards their car. As they were walking, she frowned as she spotted someone from the corner of her eye.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Nancy asked, gripping Frank's hand tightly.

"Who?"

Nancy let go of Frank's hand and stalked towards Dr. Stark, who was standing beneath an oak tree, watching them. _How dare he show up here! Exactly what kind of game was he trying to play?_

"Nancy, don't!" Frank whispered fiercely.

Ignoring him, she continued to make her way to Stark, wanting nothing more than to wipe off the smirk he was giving her. "Why the hell are you here?"

"I came to pay my respects," Stark said. "There's no law against that, is there?"

"You have no right to be here."

"I have as much right as you do." Stark smiled as Frank joined them. "I would even pay the same courtesy at your funeral, Detective Drew."

Frank growled deeply in his throat as he took a threatening step towards Stark. "Are you threatening her?"

"You may want to take a step back, Detective Hardy. While I know you are surrounded by your peers, they would still be witnesses if you tried to do anything to me."

"Did you have something to do with this?" Nancy asked, keeping her voice low. She didn't have to turn her head to know that they were being watched. She'd be damned if she was going to do anything stupid to jeopardize the case.

"Did I have something to do with what?"

"Don't play dumb, Stark. You know exactly what the hell I am talking about! Did you have something to do with Officer Crawford's death?"

Stark narrowed his eyes. "That would be next to impossible, considering I was locked away in a cell the night he died." He took a step closer to Nancy, shooting an amused glance at Frank as he tensed. "I know you would love nothing more than to paint me as the bad guy in your little drama you have going on. I would advise you to be careful."

"That sounds like another threat," Frank said.

"You're allowed to take it any way that you see fit."

"If I find out you had anything to do with this, so help me…" Nancy said, her blue eyes blazing. "I will not rest until I bring you down."

"Have you ever considered therapy for yourself, Detective?" Stark asked. "I find you have a lot of anger issues. I imagine that your job can be very stressful."

"You honestly think I'm about to take advice from you?"

"It was merely a suggestion." Stark glanced down at his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to get to. I really am sorry for your loss. I truly hope you are able to bring this killer to justice."

For a split second, rage washed over Nancy. Just as she felt her body begin to leap towards Stark, Frank grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away.

"Don't do it, Nan," Frank said softly in her ear as he moved her away. "He's just trying to get under your skin."

Nancy allowed Frank to pull her away and steer her towards the car. She hated everything about Stark. His attitude, his arrogance, even the sound of his voice. She would have loved nothing more than to punch him in the face. And maybe that was what he was going for, just wanting to create a scene to make her look unbalanced.

She knew one thing for sure: if Frank hadn't been there with her, she would have done just that and would probably be on her way to a nice comfy jail cell. And maybe she would have been okay with it. Unfortunately, that would just have to be a "what if". Frank was right, after all.

Stark wasn't worth it. Losing her temper would do nothing to honor Papa or the others who had died because of this killer. She couldn't allow her emotions to cloud her judgment.

"Thank you," Nancy said as Frank opened the door for her once they got to the car.

"For what?"

"For stopping me from doing something incredibly stupid." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "You're a pretty amazing guy, Frank Hardy."

Frank smiled as Nancy got into the car. "Someone has to keep a level head around here." He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. "And you're not so bad yourself, Nancy Drew."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby waited until the detectives left the cemetery before he got out of his car, his sights set on Dr. Stark. The doctor was going to ruin everything, the way he kept antagonizing Detective Drew. He didn't like the way Stark was treating her.

"Toby," Stark said, smiling, as the young man approached him. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I came to pay my respects," Toby answered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I saw you talking to the detectives."

"Detective Drew was upset that I showed up."

"Why?"

"Because she seems intent on blaming me for the murders that have been occurring." Stark smiled thinly at Toby, looking at him over the top of his glasses. "But we both know that it's not true, don't we?"

"I-" Toby began, but Stark held up a hand, silencing him.

"Why don't you and I go somewhere a little private to talk?" Stark asked, glancing around at the crowd. "You wouldn't want the wrong person to hear our conversation, would you?"

Toby shook his head, swallowing hard. Following Stark to his car, he slid into the passenger seat, buckling the seatbelt. This wasn't going the way he had planned. What was he going to do if everything fell apart?

"What did I tell you about controlling your urges, Toby?" Stark asked as he pulled out onto the highway.

"But I have been," Toby protested.

"You're being irresponsible."

Toby remained silent, staring straight ahead.

"You never should have killed that cop," Stark continued. "That was stupid and it could ruin everything. What were you thinking, Toby?"

"I wanted to hurt her," Toby said weakly, feeling like a small child who was being reprimanded for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

"You wanted to hurt who?"

"The detective."

Stark nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "Why did you want to hurt her, Toby?"

"She doesn't know I exist. She keeps focusing on you."

"I thought that was our agreement," Stark said, glancing at Toby. "I thought we agreed I would take the heat off of you while you continued to help everyone."

Toby nodded. "We did, but..."

"But what?"

"You remember how I told you I was able to see auras?"

Stark let out a sigh. "We discussed this, Toby. This is a manifestation of your mind. You only think you can see these auras you speak of."

Toby shook his head, not wanting to argue with the doctor. They had always disagreed about his gift, Stark always saying he was imagining it. But Toby knew better. He knew what he had was special. Everyone could call him delusional if they wanted, but it still didn't take away what he could do.

"Detective Drew is different from the others. She's like me. She doesn't fear like the others."

"She's also becoming a pain in the ass," Stark muttered. "I can't even take a breath without her questioning me about it."

Toby glanced at Stark, but didn't say anything.

"I want to protect you, Toby, but I can't do it if you continue to make rash decisions," Stark said. "I have given you an entire group of pathetic people for you to pick off."

"I know..."

"I promised you I would take care of you after your mother met with her unfortunate accident."

Toby nodded, grateful for what the doctor had done for him. Toby had only been fifteen when his mother had died, after falling down a flight of stairs. He had gotten home from school to find her at the bottom of the landing, her neck broken from the impact. She had always been the only one to accept him and encourage him with his gift.

"As for Detective Drew, there will be plenty of time for her, but you must be patient," Stark said. "Do you think you can do that, Toby?"

"But I can still have her?"

Stark smiled. "Of course you can. In fact, I am willing to help you."

"How?"

"We'll worry about that when the time is right," Stark said before letting out a sigh. "We now need to talk about our newest member to our group."

"Joseph Morgan?"

Stark nodded. "I thought he would be an interesting subject for you. It was why I brought him into our group after just one session with me."

"He seems to handle himself really well. He's not like the others at all."

"No, he isn't."

"Did you see the way he was when Rosa's body was found?" Toby asked. "He acted as if it didn't even phase him while everyone else was freaked the hell out."

"Which makes him even more interesting."

"What does he fear?"

Stark's smile was chilling. "Fire. Just imagine what you could do with that."

The possibilities were already swirling in Toby's head at the mention of the word. There was so much he could do to help their newest member. It was a fear he had never gotten to play with before.

"But we have to go about this cautiously and be smart about it," Stark warned. "The cops are already watching me more carefully than I'm comfortable with."

Toby frowned. "How long do I have to wait?"

"Not long. Just give it a few days. At least until we have another group session. I want Joseph to feel comfortable enough to share his fear with us," Stark said. He glanced per at Toby. "Besides, it wouldn't look right if you scared the poor young man without him telling you what his fear is."

Toby sighed inwardly, knowing that the doctor was right. He couldn't get too eager, not when there was still so much to do.

A few days. That's all Stark asked of him. He could do that.

But maybe he could still have some fun as well. Stark never said Detective Drew was completely off limits. He wondered how far he could push her before she begged him to stop.

For the second time in the matter of minutes, he realized the possibilities were endless.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Sorry about the delay in posting. Apparently, there is some kind of major shakeup here at FanFiction, and they have been cleaning up what they think are violations. Needless to say, I had a story that had a title with profanity in it (posted in 2009, I might add) and they put me on probation for a few days. **

**But I am back and ready to roll once again!**

**I would love to thank the following for their reviews: Caranath, jtan99, unobtrusivescribe, Liliththestormgoddess, Mrs. Frank Hardy, hlahabibty, Bookfanatic67, rangermaid, zenfrodo, bhar, Michelle Gallichio, dares to dream, GreatDays, Maddi Paige, and cupcake. And yes, Ann…I can't forget about you. I am so sorry that I seem to be so bad and cliché—thank you so much for pointing that out to me. I'll try to see if I can work on that for you.**

**Also, big thanks to everyone who are putting me on their alert lists! It means a lot to me!**

**And as always, I have to thank roswalyn for the awesome beta!**

**Another update coming soon!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Joe fidgeted nervously as he sat in his chair, only stopping when he realized he was making himself a little too obvious. The truth was, there was very little he was ever nervous about. Sure, he had the occasional fit of nerves when he was about to confront a suspect or when he had done something wrong—especially when Vanessa caught him. But he was never one to shy away from groups, considering half the time, he was willing to jump in the middle of them.

He could feel everyone in the group staring at him, and while it made him slightly uncomfortable, he shrugged it off. He knew what they were waiting for—the big reveal. What in the world could possibly scare Joe Hardy a.k.a Joseph Morgan? Well, what scared Joe Hardy was just going to have to wait for another day. But Joseph Morgan—well, he was about to put on the performance of a lifetime.

He, Frank, and Nancy had talked about it the night before, going over every detail about how Joe should now approach the situation. While Frank wanted to be cautious, Nancy was ready to act, and Joe couldn't blame her at all. She had just lost someone she was incredibly close to and she wanted answers. He was the exact same way after Iola had died. He'd felt the same bloodlust as she was feeling right now.

It was seriously a good thing Frank was around to keep them in line. They needed someone rational, and while it always seemed to come down to his older brother, he knew there was no one better for the job. It was Frank's idea to have Joe to go back into the group therapy setting, and profess his fears to the members.

After that, Frank figured they could keep the ball in their court. Even though he didn't agree with it originally, Frank knew that Joe's fear would be enticing to the killer, whoever it may be. Though Joe didn't like it, Frank wanted to keep him under constant surveillance in case the killer tried to strike again. As soon as he did, they would arrest him and put an end to all of the terror he'd been causing.

If they lived in a perfect world, Joe knew it would go down exactly the way his brother had pictured it. Unfortunately, they all knew the odds were never quite in their favor when it came to planning—no matter how careful and precise it may be.

Stark cleared his throat, glancing at each person in the group. "I know the last few days have been nothing short of difficult. We have lost two people, not to mention the unfortunate death of a police officer."

Joe resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the way Stark was talking to the group, as if they were small children who needed consoling. What annoyed him even more was the way everyone was hanging onto every word Stark had to say.

"I think the best thing we can do right now is to try to get back on track and get things back to normal," Stark continued. "Now, if you would like to talk about your feelings, we can certainly use this hour to do just that. Or would anyone prefer that we just cancel the group session today?"

The room remained silent as they looked at each other.

Stark nodded. "Does anyone have something they would like to say?"

Joe waited a few seconds to see if anyone was going to take Stark up on his offer. When no one said anything, he slowly raised his hand.

"Joseph," Stark said, smiling brightly. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Joe saw that everyone was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and anxiousness. "You said you were ready for things to get back to normal, so I think I'm ready to share my story with everyone."

"Very good!" The doctor's smile grew as he gave his full attention to Joe. "Everyone, let's officially welcome Joseph Morgan into our group."

There was a murmur among the members as they greeted Joe.

Nodding his thanks, Joe stood up so he could see everyone. It was hard for him to school his features into a blank mask since he was usually so lively, especially among a group. "Um...as Dr. Stark said, my name is Joseph Morgan. I moved into the area about five weeks ago because I had to get away from my old life."

"And what life was that, Joseph?"

"I was about a year away from graduating high school and I had this great girlfriend. She was smart, beautiful...everything I didn't deserve," Joe said, unable to lie to the group about his first love. He found his mind wandering as he thought back to Iola, then shook himself as everyone stared up at him. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Joseph. The stage is yours for as long as you need it."

"You may regret saying that later, Doc," Joe said, smiling politely as he got a few laughs out of the room. _Time to start the lying. _"My girlfriend and I were coming home from a date when a dog ran in front of the car. I swerved to avoid it, but I overcorrected and flipped the car several times."

A couple of the women let out soft gasps, but Joe kept going with his story.

"I must have blacked out after the car finally came to a stop. When I opened my eyes, we were upside down. Iola...she was unconscious. I kept shouting out her name but she wouldn't wake up." Joe took a moment, trying hard to push down the real emotions that were threatening to take over. Even though the events differed from what actually happened, they still brought out raw anguish and pain.

"What did you do?" Toby asked, staring at Joe anxiously.

"I somehow managed to get out of my seatbelt just as the flames started to appear. I reached over to try to help Iola, but her seatbelt was stuck. By that time, I was starting to panic because I knew the car could explode at any moment. I started screaming, making any noise I could to get her to open her eyes."

"Did she?"

Joe nodded. "I'd never seen her look so scared before. The car was starting to grow really hot as the fire became more intense. I used my elbow to bust out the window on my side and when I looked back at her, she had the most beautiful smile on her face. It was peaceful, as if she was accepting what was going to happen."

"What happened, Joseph?" Stark asked.

"She told me that I needed to get out of there and save myself. She wanted me to leave her, but I didn't listen. As soon as I got out of the car, I grabbed a piece of the glass so I could cut her seatbelt." Joe stopped, taking a deep breath. "I ran to her side of the car and before I could even cut her loose, there was a horrible explosion. I woke up in a hospital a few days later and they told me she as dead."

"You poor thing..."

Joe couldn't be sure which woman said it, but he nodded anyway. "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stand the sight of fire, much less be anywhere near it. I can't even get myself to light a candle. How pathetic is that?" He shook his head. "After I graduated high school, I went to college and got my architecture degree. I came back to my hometown to work and it was going well for a couple of years. But I still couldn't shake the fear. So, I figured that a change of scenery would be good for me. So, here I am

"It's not pathetic at all," Stark said, removing his glasses, and fixing Joe with a stare. "In fact, it's certainly understandable given the trauma you went through."

Joe sat down, seeing that the spotlight had returned to Stark.

"That's what I keep trying to stress to everyone as a group," Stark continued. "Your fears do not make you pathetic or any less of a human being than the person next to you. Your fears are not unfounded. There is a reason you have let it gain control of your life. But you don't have to continue to let it do that. As soon as you can own it and face it, then you can reclaim your life."

"What about you, Doc?" Joe asked, curious about the psychologist. He went on and on about fears that it made Joe wonder if he had any of his own.

"What about me, Joseph?"

"Is there anything you fear?" Joe kept his eyes on Stark, refusing to look at anyone else, even though they were staring at him as if he had lost his mind.

"This really isn't about me. It's about helping all of you."

"Maybe so, but I think the majority of us are curious. Besides, it would make you seem a little human yourself, instead of just some doctor who is crazy enough to deal with us."

Stark smiled thinly at Joe. "Everyone has something they fear, Joseph. Some are just better at hiding it than others. You just have to know where to look and what buttons to push."

_Well, that's not a strange answer at all, _Joe thought. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Stark stood up.

"I realize that our session is not quite over, but I'm afraid I am going to have to end it early today. Please, feel free to stay behind and visit with each other if you wish." His eyes traveled around the room, stopping on Joe. "I would advise you to be careful, especially with a killer still on the loose."

Joe's expression remained neutral, not missing the clear threat Stark was sending his way.

"I guess the doctor wasn't too happy with your question," Toby said, appearing beside Joe as soon as Stark left the room.

"No, I guess not." Joe turned to look at Toby. "Did you think it was out of line?"

Toby shook his head. "I think everyone has been wondering, but were too afraid to ask."

"Well, I have a tendency to open my mouth before I actually think."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Toby said. "A lot of us probably wish we could be more like that."

Joe shook his head ruefully. "No, you don't. It only gets you in trouble. Trust me on that."

Toby smiled, then grew silent as he seemed to be thinking about what he wanted to say. "I wanted to ask you something..."

"Sure."

"The other day...you know, when Rosa died..."

Joe narrowed his eyes, waiting for the other man to continue.

"It's just...you were so calm when you found her body while everyone else was freaking the hell out."

Joe nodded his understanding. "You're wondering how I can be so calm about that when I have this crazy fear of fire."

Toby shrugged. "I don't mean to put you on the spot. It's just that it was pretty incredible, the way you handled the situation."

"I don't mind," Joe said as Toby took the seat next to him. "My dad used to be a cop so I was around that kind of stuff all the time. I can't tell you how many crime scene photos I've looked at."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I guess I kind of got the stomach for things like that." Joe smiled. "That doesn't mean I want to see another one, though."

"I know what you mean," Toby said, gazing around at the few people who remained. "Do you think the police will catch this guy? I mean, before another person has to die?"

Joe nodded, his gaze hard. "I have no doubt in my mind they'll catch the bastard."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Frank sat at his desk, his eyes unable to leave Nancy as she methodically cleaned out Papa's desk. She wasn't even supposed to be doing it. McGinnis has originally assigned a deputy to do it, but Nancy would hear nothing of it. Frank had wanted to argue with her, knowing she was only going to succeed in torturing herself with the task.

But Nancy Drew was stubborn and she wasn't going to back down. And while that drove Frank crazy, it was also why he loved her so much. She wasn't one to crumble and run away. She charged into any situation and held her head high, no matter what it may do to her in the end.

Frank just knew he would always be there for her to pick up the pieces and stand by her side.

Maybe he was wrong about this. Maybe, in some strange way, it would help her deal with Papa's death and move on. She needed to before it ended up consuming her. Grief and anger could do wonders on a person, even the most timid. Frank knew that much from experience.

"Would you stop staring at her, Frank?" Joe asked, plopping himself in the chair across from Frank. "She's not going to fall apart."

Frank tore his eyes away from Nancy to glare at his sibling. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in therapy."

Joe smiled as he interlocked his hands behind his head. "Got out early. The doc figured there was no hope for me."

"I wouldn't argue with that," Frank said, smirking.

"Actually, I think I managed to piss him off."

Frank could have sworn he detected a hint of pride in his brother's voice. "How did you manage to do that?"

"Well, after I put in the performance of my life, I simply asked Stark if there was something he feared. In front of everyone."

"And?"

Joe shrugged. "He just gave some lame ass answer that everyone was afraid of something. Some just hid it better than others."

"I don't see how that would piss him off."

"Apparently it did, considering he felt the need to threaten me."

"Seriously?"

"He managed to be vague about it," Joe said. "But I got the hint."

Frank shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. "This guy is unbelievable."

"What are you guys talking about?" Nancy asked, setting the box of Papa's personal items on her desk.

"Oh, nothing really," Frank answered. "Just how Joe is managing to aggravate our main suspect."

Nancy grinned at Joe. "It would have been better if you'd hit him. I would have given you an alibi."

Joe returned the smile. "I'll see what I can do for you next time."

"No, you won't," Frank said, giving them both a stern look. He nodded towards the box on Nancy's desk. "Did you get everything?"

Nancy's grin quickly vanished. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?

"I'm fine, Frank. I'm not about to fall apart again."

"I didn't mean anything by it, Nan," Frank said, flinching slightly at her tone. "I'm concerned."

Nancy let out a sigh as she rubbed at her temples. "I'm sorry, Frank. I don't mean to snap at you. It's just that if someone isn't asking me how I'm doing, they're staring at me as if I'm about to break apart."

Joe snorted. "Anyone who thought that is just insane."

"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult," Nancy said.

"Definitely a compliment. So, what are you going to do with his stuff?"

"Take it home. Maybe give it to my dad, since he was his best friend."

"I think your dad would like that," Frank said.

Nancy nodded. "I'll bring it over to him this weekend since we're supposed to go over there for dinner."

At the mention of food, Joe's stomach began to rumble. "How about we get out of here and grab something to eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Frank said, signing off of his computer.

"I want to take this box out to the car so I don't forget it," Nancy said.

Putting his jacket on, Frank picked up the box, ignoring Nancy's protests as he did so. Feminism be damned. His mother had raised him to be a gentleman.

The moon was shining brightly as they made their way across the parking lot to Nancy's car. Usually, Frank and Nancy rode together to work, but she had left earlier than usual. He figured she simply couldn't sleep, not that he could really blame her.

Nancy had her keys in her hand as she stepped in front of Frank to open the trunk so he could put the box inside. She frowned at the small cardboard box sitting there. "What's that?"

"Maybe you have a secret admirer," Joe offered, smiling at Frank. "And maybe you should be worried that someone is trying to steal your girl."

"Shut up," Frank said as Nancy used one of her keys to open the box. He saw she was being cautious, as if she didn't know what to expect. "What is it?"

"Oh, son of a bitch!" Nancy yelled as she jumped back away from the box. As her keys fell from her grasp, Frank saw his brother was stepping forward.

Joe's face was grim as he looked inside the trunk before turning to look at Frank. "Some freak decided to leave some tarantulas in there."

"What?" Setting the box down on the ground, Frank move cautiously to the trunk and peered inside the box. A dozen or so tarantulas were crawling over each other, trying to make their way to the opening. A feeling of repulsion and anger washed over him as he glanced back at Nancy.

"Don't even think about asking me if I'm alright," Nancy said, shivering slightly. "Just close the damn thing and get rid of them."

Frank exchanged a look with his brother as he firmly closed the lid to the box before any of the spiders could get out. There were very few things that scared Nancy, but spiders were on top of her list. Even when she saw one of the small jumping spiders, she had a fit, refusing to move until it was killed.

He had a pretty good idea the killer was behind this, since it was too much of a coincidence to be a random prank. That could only mean he was surely setting his sights on her, wanting her to know he was watching. Killing Papa hadn't been a big enough hint—he wanted to screw with her head now.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he stepped away from the car, his eyes searching the darkened parking lot for any sign of the person responsible. He truly had no idea if the killer was watching them at that moment.

One thing was for sure now: Frank Hardy was watching for him.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**I hope this update was quick enough for you guys!**

**As usual, I want to thank the following for their reviews: nicolelylewis, zenfrodo, unobtrusivescribe, Caranath, Xdaisy chainX, hlahabibty, rangermaid, cupcake and Michelle Gallichio!**

**I will warn you that this chapter was not beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes!**

**Until the next update!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nancy sat at the small kitchen table, staring at her cell phone as the clock ticked above her in the kitchen. She didn't need to glance up at it to see that it was late. She knew she should be sleeping, considering she hadn't really gotten much sleep since Frank had given her the pills the night Papa had died.

But sleep evaded her. Every time she'd tried to close her eyes, her mind instantly put up the image of the spiders, clambering to get out of the box and crawl towards her. She had never been a big fan of them, even when she was younger. And to see a box full of them was enough to make her skin crawl for hours.

She was angry at herself for letting the killer get to her like that. It was obvious he was playing a game with her-the only problem was that she had no idea what the rules were and how far he was willing to go until he decided he'd had enough.

Of course, Frank had been freaked out about it. Nancy had tried to talk to him, to assure him that it was nothing, but he was hearing none of it. Joe had tried his best to make a joke about it, which only seemed to piss Frank off even more. When they'd gotten home, he'd barely said a word to the two of them.

Nancy wondered how he would react if she ever decided to tell him about the phone call. Before she even had a chance to mull over that thought, her phone vibrated, shattering the silence in the room, causing her to jump.

She picked it up hastily and punched the talk button. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to call."

The person on the other end chuckled softly. _"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Detective. I'm guessing from your tone that you got the present I left for you tonight."_

"Tell me where I should send the thank-you card," Nancy said, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake Frank or Joe.

_"Cute, but no. Don't worry, we'll be meeting very shortly."_

"Good. I can't wait to see you so I can personally see to it that you're caught and put away for the rest of your life."

_"You seem very optimistic."_

"Oh, I am."

_"You're only making me more excited about our meeting, Detective," _the killer said. _"You never did say if you liked the spiders I left you."_

_"_That's because I didn't," Nancy said. "Don't you think spiders are a little childish?"

_"Not at all."_

"Why did you pick spiders? Were you hoping to scare me with them?"

_"I was and we both know that I did." The person on the other end took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "As for why I picked them, it's simple. There are very few things in this world that seem to scare most people. One of them happens to be spiders, when in reality, they are just misunderstood creatures. They don't seek us out to hurt us, only when they feel threatened."_

"I didn't realize you were going to call and lecture me," Nancy said. "And as for your little theory about spiders, they didn't bother me."

_"You're lying to me."_

"What if I am?"

_"You__**'**__re__ trying to get me angry, hoping that I may slip up. Tell me, Detective Drew...are you running a trace on our call as we speak?"_

"We both know I would only be wasting my time. I already know you're calling me from a blocked number."

_"And you would be correct." _The mystery person remained silent for a few moments. _"I've noticed that you haven't been speaking too loudly, Detective. Does your partner know you've been talking to me?"_

Nancy remained silent, clutching the phone a little tighter.

_"Your silence tells me that he doesn't. Why is that, I wonder?"_

"None of your damn business."

_"You're worried about what he would do if he found out. He would be angry with you, wouldn't he? And after the anger passed, the fear would begin to take over." _He let out a wistful sigh. _"Have you ever noticed the amount of fear he carries around when it comes to you? I've never seen anything like it. It's intoxicating."_

Nancy felt a chill run down her spine at the way he spoke about Frank. "Shut up."

_"He practically stinks with fear when he's near you. He's afraid he will lose you at any moment. He's even more afraid he won't be able to save you, that he'll have to watch you die. Do you feel the same way about him?"_

"Stay away from him!"

_"No. I don't think I will."_

"Nancy, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

Nancy glanced up to see Frank standing in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep. His eyes were wide and alert as he looked at her, a frown forming when he saw the phone clutched in her hand.

_"Is that him? I'm guessing the two of you have some things to discuss. Give him my best, Detective."_

"Nancy?" Frank took a step forward as she put the phone on the table. "Who were you talking to?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up," she said softly.

Frank's frown grew as she avoided the question, realization dawning in his eyes. "It was him, wasn't it?"

She could have lied to him. In fact, it probably would have been best if she did. But the one thing Nancy valued in her relationship with Frank was that they were always honest with each other. Sure, they had their secrets, but when it came down to revealing them, they were always truthful with one another.

"Yes."

"Is this the first time he's called you?"

"No. He called me after Papa died."

"Were you even going to tell me?"

"Eventually."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Nancy sighed. "It means I would have told you eventually. I knew how you would react and you're already stressed out enough as it is."

"That doesn't matter, Nan." Frank sat down in the seat next to her. "Are you really that afraid to let someone help you?"

"That's not it at all."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know," Nancy said honestly.

"Were you just going to try to handle it yourself?"

Nancy opened her mouth to argue, but closed it quickly. What was she really going to say to him? Did she really think she could handle it herself? Did she really think she didn't need his help?

Frank shook his head, disbelief on his face. "You were."

"No. I wouldn't do that to you, Frank. Not to mention how careless that would be. I may be some things, but I'm not suicidal."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to worry about me." Nancy reached forward and took his hands in hers. "You think I haven't noticed it lately, especially after Papa's death? You'll never admit it, but you're stressed and freaking the hell out. If I can take some of that away from you by withholding something minor, then I'm going to do it."

"You don't have to do that, Nan." Frank smiled slightly. "Don't you know that I'm going to worry about you regardless? It's just who I am. I should have warned you that when we finally got together that it would be worse."

"Maybe you should have." Nancy returned his smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "And really, the phone calls are nothing. He's just trying to see if he can get a reaction from me."

"Did he?"

Nancy shrugged. "Maybe."

"What did he say to you?" Frank's tone was guarded and maybe a little anxious.

"He just wanted to make sure I got the spiders."

"How did he even know you were afraid of them?"

"He didn't. He just took a shot with them because, according to him, they're something that almost everyone is afraid of." Nancy glanced down at their hands. "I probably pissed him off by letting him know they didn't bother me. He'll probably try to figure out another way to get to me."

"Like what?"

"He's noticed you, Frank."

"Noticed me how?"

"He's seen the way you are with me. He even told me what you fear the most."

Frank frowned. "And what would that be?"

"Losing me. Being unable to save me." Nancy waited for Frank to say something, but he remained silent. "Is he wrong?"

"No..."

Nancy nodded, unsure whether to be touched by the admission or scared by it. "I think he figures that it would work both ways."

"Would it?"

"Yes. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you, Frank. I know these past few months haven't been easy, with us trying to figure out everything. But I also know that I can't lose you and I would never forgive myself if you were ever hurt or killed because of me."

"Then we won't let it happen." Leaning forward in his chair, Frank pressed a kiss against her forehead. Nancy lifted her head to look up at him, seeing the love she felt reflected back in his eyes.

Putting her hands behind his neck, Nancy pulled Frank into a kiss, letting out a soft sound as he returned it in earnest. For a blissful moment, everything was forgotten as they sat there in the kitchen, kissing and holding each other.

"Let's go to bed," Frank murmured between kisses.

Nancy nodded, unable to break contact with him. She gave a little cry of surprise as he lifted her out of the chair and into his arms, still kissing her as he carried her to their bedroom.

It wasn't until later that night that Nancy found herself actually sleeping soundly for the first time in about a week.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby smiled to himself as he hung up the phone.

Though she tried her best to hide it, he was beginning to hear the first traces of fear in her voice. By no means did it indicate that she was just like the others. No, she was so much stronger than all of them combined. It just meant that she could be broken.

Her partner would be the way to go, Toby knew that much for sure. There had been a tinge of panic to her voice when he had mentioned Frank. That was going to be her ultimate weakness-the one way to make her crumble like all of the others.

Toby felt his pulse quicken at the thought.

But he had another issue to deal with first-Joseph Morgan. A part of him felt horrible about going after him, considering that he really liked him. If the situation had been different, Toby could see them being really good friends. He was easy to talk to and he didn't seek to take a lot of crap from anyone. Besides, anyone who could manage to get under Stark's skin was okay by him.

He knew it had to be soon, even though Stark had warned him to be patient. Patience could only get you so far and Joseph's case was critical. While he was still able to maintain some semblance of normalcy, Toby knew it would only be a matter of time for Joseph. He needed to free him from his fear before it was too late.

He just needed to figure out how he was going to do it.

Toby rubbed his temples as a headache began to form. What he really needed to do was take a break from it. Reaching for his laptop, he booted it up and brought up Google. Maybe the answer for Joseph wasn't going to come tonight. That didn't mean the night had to be a total waste.

He'd been wanting to learn more about Detective Drew, but just hadn't had the time. Typing in her name, he waited for the results to pop up.

There were dozens of hits, the majority of it being newspaper articles about her long and storied career as a detective. He clicked through each one, absorbing all of the information. There were several mentions of some very close calls with a few of her cases, and he found himself admiring her even more as he read each one.

How was it possible she was still afraid of nothing, even after everything she had been through. Maybe it was what made her so good at her job. But surely, after years on the job, it had to have done something to her. Was the wall she'd built around her really that sturdy?

Clicking over to the images, Toby found himself browsing through each one. With each passing photo, she became more and more embedded into his mind until she was all he could see. There were quite a few pictures of her standing with her partner and someone else who looked familiar to Toby.

Enlarging the picture, he felt anger wash over him as he recognized the blond-haired man standing with Nancy and Frank.

_Joseph Morgan._

Or rather, Joe Hardy, who just happened to be Detective Hardy's younger brother. There was no way in hell it was a coincidence that he just happened to show up at the group sessions right about the time the murders had started.

Typing in Joe's name, Toby found that his suspicions were correct. According to the information he'd found, Joe was a private detective, along with his father, back in New York. He'd also worked numerous cases with his older brother, not to mention Nancy as well.

It was simple as to why Joe was there. He was sent to stop him from sharing his gift with the others.

Picking up his cell phone, Toby dialed Stark's number, not bothering to worry about the time.

"We have a problem," Toby said as soon as Stark answered. "A big problem."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Sorry about not updating sooner, but I've had a crazy week planning a birthday party for this weekend. As of today, I am officially celebrating my 30th birthday!**

**I would love to thank the following for their lovely reviews: Michelle Gallichio, nicolelylewis, KennaC, bhar, rangermaid, hlahabibty, unobtrusivescribe, Caranath, zenfrodo (thank you for pointing out those mistakes—hopefully, I have fixed them here!), cupcake, Marinebrat0311, and Liliththestormgoddess. They mean so much to me!**

**And a very special thank you to my wonderful beta, roswalyn.**

**I have already started a good dent into the next chapter, but like I said, I am having a huge party this weekend. So, the next update may not be as quick as I would like.**

**Until next time!**


	14. Chapter 14

**So, this chapter absolutely was not supposed to end this way…**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Chapter 14

When Nancy woke up the next morning, she had a better outlook on the case. Maybe it was the night spent in Frank's arms or maybe it was the fact she was tired of feeling sorry for herself. She wasn't going to get anywhere with the case if she sat around being moody and wrapped up in her grief. She was better than that.

Her mind was whirling as she got out of bed and started getting dressed for work. She had been approaching Stark the wrong way. Instead of waiting for him to make a mistake and dig his own grave, she should be talking to the people who were closest to him.

Background checks could only tell you so much about a person. Sure, a piece of paper could tell you past offenses and the like, but to really get to know someone and how they act, you needed to talk to the people who dealt with them. There was always going to be a person they let their guard down with more than others. Now, Nancy just needed to find that person.

And she had a pretty good idea where to start.

"Hey, Joe. What do you think about Toby?" Nancy asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned across the bar from where the younger Hardy was sitting.

Joe shrugged as he swallowed down a bite of toast. "He seems nice enough. Why?"

"How would you classify his relationship with Stark?"

"They get along really well. I figure they have to be pretty close, considering Stark lets him sit in on the group sessions."

"He just sits in on them?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah. He said he's been a patient of Stark's for a few years. He told me that Stark thought it would be a good idea to have him as support for the others."

"How do the others respond to Toby?"

"They trust him, or at least, that's what I gather." Joe took another bite of toast. "Why do you ask? You don't think he's responsible for the murders, do you?"

Nancy shook her head. "I'm still putting my money on Stark. I just remember Toby from the first time we interviewed the doctor. He seemed eager to talk to us, until Stark shut him down."

"He'd probably be your best bet for any info on Stark, then. Everyone else seems to be intimidated by the doc."

"You wouldn't happen to know where he works or lives, would you?"

"Nancy Drew...please tell me I did not just see you bat your eyelashes at me."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "I only save that move for belligerent witnesses. If I wanted to get anything out of you, Joe, I would just find something incriminating or embarrassing and hold it over your head until you told me."

"Yeah, I know," Joe grumbled. "You're lucky I already look to you as a sister."

Nancy smiled sweetly at him. "I have never used anything against you, Joe."

"Yet," Joe agreed. "But I'm pretty sure you have the ammo for it."

"Maybe..."

Joe sighed as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "I don't know if or where Toby works, but I do have his number."

"You're amazing," Nancy said as she grabbed a pen and a piece of paper.

"Be sure to tell everyone that, especially Vanessa."

Nancy copied the number down and handed his phone back to him. "She doesn't need me to tell her that, Joe. She knows."

Joe grinned before popping the last bite of toast into his mouth.

"So, what are you and Frank up to today?" Nancy was glad that Frank had taken the day off to spend with Joe, considering they didn't get to spend as much time together anymore since they lived in different parts of the country.

"We were talking about going into Chicago to watch the game."

"I think that's a great idea," Nancy said, knowing that Frank had been eager to go to a game ever since the football season started. "Frank needs a break from everything. But how exactly did you convince him?"

Joe's smile grew. "I just put a major guilt trip on him, considering the strings we had to pull to get those tickets for him. He's not about to let a great pair of seats go, and he's not about to let someone else take them."

"Don't remind me. I'm still waiting for Phil to call in on that favor I owe him." Phil Rodgers had been one of Nancy's favorite professors during college. His son just happened to be one of the Chicago Bears' managers, and while he usually didn't give tickets to any of the games, he had made an exception in her case.

"You may want to turn your phone off for the day. You know Frank will be calling you every five minutes since you won't be in his sight."

"Or you could just come with us so I won't have to spend the entire day worrying about you," Frank said, coming into the kitchen.

Nancy finished the last of her coffee and rinsed out the cup. "Sorry, babe. That's not about to happen. I'm ready to get this case wrapped up."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

"Frank, everything will be fine."

"Can you promise me that?"

Nancy retrieved her keys and jacket, before walking over and kissing him on the cheek. "I could always lie to you, but I won't. I have no way to guarantee that and you know it."

Frank sighed. "Just don't take Joe's advice about your phone. If you don't answer, we're coming back."

"I'll agree to that as long as you don't go crazy and feel the need to check up on me every hour."

"But-"

"I'm a big girl, Frank." She smiled up at him. "Besides, I have a gun to keep me company."

"You can't argue with her there, Frank," Joe said, smirking at his sibling.

"You two have fun." Nancy pulled Frank into one more kiss. "And you relax."

Giving them one last wave, Nancy walked out the door, excited about the workday.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toby groaned as his phone rang, waking him from a restless sleep. He'd been up half the night talking with Stark, trying to figure out what they were going to do. It screwed everything up now that they knew Joe was working with the police. But they had both come to the same conclusion.

Joe Hardy had to die, along with his brother.

It was just a shame that it had to be that way. But there was one thing that Toby knew Stark hated and that was to be embarrassed or made a joke of. By putting Joe into the group and allowing him to gain everyone's trust was a slap in the face. If they didn't take care of the problem, then it would all go to hell.

And Toby couldn't afford to let that happen. Not when he still had so much of his gift left to share. Besides, the more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realized it could work out for the better. He could now strike out at Nancy with two people she cared about instead of just one.

Grabbing for his phone, he frowned when he didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

_"Hi, this is Detective Drew with the River Heights Police Department. Is this Toby?"_

Toby's heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the sound of her voice. "Y-yes."

_"I was wondering if there was any way we could get together and talk. I just have a few questions to ask you, if you don't mind."_

Toby practically threw the covers off the bed as he scrambled out of it. "No, I don't mind at all. Am I in trouble?"

_"No. There are just some things I need to know."_

"Okay. Where did you want to meet? Did you want me to come down to the station?"

_"We can meet at Coffee Fusion, if that's okay. Is thirty minutes from now good?"_

"Sounds great. I'll be there."

Toby hung up, anticipation coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe that she actually wanted to talk to him..._alone._ She was going to be right in front of him, within touching distance.

As he jumped in the shower, he wondered what that would do to him. What kind of effect would the detective have on him in such close proximity? Would he even be able to speak? Would it have the same effect on him as alcohol would have on a normal person?

All Toby knew for sure was that he couldn't wait to find out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ten minutes after her phone call with Toby, Nancy was sitting in the small coffee shop, waiting for him to arrive for their meeting. She had picked a table in the corner, wanting to give them some semblance of privacy. Though the shop wasn't packed with patrons as it usually was, there was still a nice-sized crowd.

Taking a sip of her frozen mocha, Nancy wasn't surprised as her phone began to ring. What was surprising was the fact that it had taken Frank two hours to call her. She smiled as she pressed the talk button. "Two hours...I'm impressed, Mr. Hardy."

_"It's only because Joe took my phone from me and wouldn't give it back until now."_

The smile stayed on Nancy's face as she heard the grumpy tone to Frank's voice. "Tell Joe I owe him one."

_"I'm sure he would love to hear that. What are you doing?"_

"I have a meeting with Toby." Nancy glanced up as the bell above the door chimed, only to see a teenaged girl enter. "I wanted to see if he could tell me anything about Stark, since he seemed eager to talk to us the other day."

_"That sounds like a smart move. You'll call me if he tells you anything important?"_

"Of course. Are you on your way to the game?"

_"Yep. We should be in the city in about an hour or so."_

"You two have fun. I'll see you when you get back tonight," Nancy said. "Let me talk to Joe for a second."

_"Hey, Nan," _Joe said a couple of seconds later.

"Hey. Make sure you keep the phone away from Frank. I want him to have fun today."

Joe chuckled. _"Will do."_

Nancy glanced up as the bell once again rang when the door opened. She instantly recognized Toby and held up a hand to wave at him. "I have to go. Toby just showed up. Remember what I said about the phone."

Toby smiled at Nancy as he approached the table. "Hi, Detective Drew. Do you mind if I grab something to drink before we talk?"

"No, not at all."

"Would you like a refill while I'm up?"

"No, thanks. I'm good."

Nancy watched as Toby walked up to the counter and placed his order. A few minutes later, he returned with a tall cup and sat down across from her.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, Detective, but how exactly did you get my number?" Toby asked.

"Oh, I got it from Dr. Stark," Nancy lied.

"So, he knows that I'm talking to you?"

"Not at this moment. I got it from him at the beginning of our investigation, just in case I had any questions for you." Toby let out a noticeable sigh of relief, which Nancy thought was a little strange. "Are you afraid of Dr. Stark, Toby?"

Toby shook his head. "Not really, no. He can just be really intense sometimes."

"Intense how?"

"About his work. He really cares about his patients and takes pride in what he does. When it's called into question, he tends to get defensive."

"You sound as if you know him really well."

"I do. Dr. Stark practically helped raise me after my mother passed away."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Nancy said, her tone sympathetic. "How long ago was it?"

"Almost ten years ago. I came home from school and I found her dead."

Nancy couldn't begin to imagine how it felt to find a family member, especially a parent, dead. It was bad enough for an adult to have to face that situation, but for a child...it would have an impact on them for the rest of their lives.

"You said that Stark raised you after your mother's death. What about your father?"

"He ran out on us after I was born."

"So, how did Stark end up with you?"

"I'd known him for a long time." Toby grinned at Nancy. "I may not exactly look the part, but I've been in therapy for years. More than I care to admit."

"Do you mind if I ask what for?"

"I spent my entire childhood living in fear. Pretty much anything you can imagine, I was afraid of it. My mom lived in constant denial about it. It wasn't until my third grade teacher brought it up to her that she decided I needed help."

"How well do you know Stark? Outside of therapy, I mean?"

Toby shrugged. "I suppose as well as anyone."

"How would you describe him?"

"Professional...devoted...passionate about his work and his patients." Toby leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I know you think he's responsible for the murders, Detective, but he's not."

"How do you know?"

"He just wouldn't do it. I know him."

Nancy pitied the young man sitting in front of her. It was clear he idolized the doctor-how was it going to affect him when he found out the one person he trusted turned out to be a cold-blooded murderer?

"Unfortunately, people aren't always exactly the way they present themselves. Even the most caring and generous can turn out to be the monster at the end of the hall."

"That may be true," Toby said. "But why do you think that of Dr. Stark?"

"Because his past history tells me so. And because of the way he's been acting."

"It's not him."

"I hope you're right, Toby." Standing up, Nancy reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. "If you want to talk or can think of anything else that may help us, let me know. You can call me anytime."

Toby said nothing as he stared at the small card.

Nancy gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before walking out of the coffee shop and towards her car. Digging her keys from her pocket, she was about to open her door when she heard a shout behind her.

"Detective Drew!"

Nancy turned to see Toby jogging towards her. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah..." Toby scratched the back of his head, glancing down at his shoes.

"You can tell me anything, Toby. Anything you say will be kept confidential, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Without warning, Toby struck out at her. Before she could even defend herself, he had her pinned against her car, surprising her with his strength. Nancy looked around wildly, searching for anyone, but there was no one around to assist her.

"What the hell are you doing, Toby?" Nancy tried to move her hand towards her gun, but he saw what she was doing and applied more pressure.

"I was right about you," Toby said, smiling. "You have no fear."

Before she could even make sense of what he was saying, she felt a sharp pain in her neck, realizing too late that he was drugging her. Panic overtook her, causing her to struggle even harder against him, even as she felt herself becoming sluggish.

"Shh...it's okay, Detective." Toby's voice was soft as it seemed to echo all around her. He caught her as she began to fall. "Careful there. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Nancy had no argument for him as darkness enveloped her.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Before you start screaming at me, don't worry. The brothers are not getting away unscathed, especially if I have anything to say about it. Like I told my beta, the muse kind of grabbed the steering wheel away from me and took control. **

**That being said, I would love to thank my following reviewers: Caranath, unobtrusivescribe, Xdaisy chainX, nicolelylewis, Marinebrat0311, Michelle Gallichio, rangermaid, cupcake, Liliththestormgoddess, and Zenfrodo. Also, thanks to the readers who are adding me to their alert lists! **

**I really appreciate all of you!**

**Until the next update…**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Frank was trying his best to enjoy the football game. He was trying to be attentive, watching each play with what he hoped was just passable enthusiasm. It was clear that Joe was enjoying it and he wanted to show his brother he appreciated the effort and gesture, especially since snagging fifty-yard line tickets were almost next to impossible.

But it was hard knowing that Nancy was at least a two hour drive away, excluding traffic. If she got into any trouble, he would never be able to make it to her in time. He never should have let Nancy and Joe talk him into going to the game, but unfortunately, the plans had been made months in advance. The tickets had been a joint birthday gift from them and he didn't want to think about the strings that had to be pulled in order to snag them.

Originally, Nancy was supposed to come to the game with him. But when they had found out that Joe was coming for a visit, she thought it would be a great outing for the brothers. At the time, Frank had agreed with her, but his opinion changed as soon as the murder investigation fell into their laps.

"Frank, calm down," Joe said, nudging him with his elbow. "You look like some strung-out druggie the way you keep moving your legs."

"Sorry. It's just hard to concentrate knowing that Nancy's back in River Heights. If anything happens to her, we wouldn't be able to get back to her in time."

"You're being paranoid."

"I wish to God that's all I was being." Frank cringed slightly as Joe stood up with the rest of the crowd, cheering as a touchdown was scored.

Joe sank back into his chair once the cheers died down. "If something happened, she would call you."

"What if she can't?"

"Again, you're being paranoid."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Let me see my phone."

"I am not about to let you harass the woman."

"I'm not going to harass her. I just want to see how the meeting with Toby went."

"She told you she would call if she found out anything," Joe argued. "Meaning, if you haven't heard from her, she hasn't learned anything."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I know what she's capable of if you piss her off."

Frank sighed, knowing that Joe was right. There was only so far you could push Nancy before she pushed back. Experience told him you didn't want to be on the receiving end. "I hate it when you're right."

"Tell you what. You manage to stay focused on the game through halftime, I'll let you have your phone back."

"Fine," Frank grumbled, knowing his brother wasn't going to relent unless he upheld his end of the bargain.

_Okay...I can stay focused. But don't for a second think I'm not going to be watching that clock._

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Toby, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I panicked," Toby said weakly. "I couldn't pass the opportunity up."

"I told you that we needed to wait. I told you to have patience."

Nancy groaned softly as the voices drifted into her subconscious. At first, she thought she was imagining them until everything came rushing back to her in vivid Technicolor clarity. She'd been at the coffee shop with Toby, digging for information about Stark. Toby had called out to her in the parking lot, and then she'd felt a sharp prick in her neck, followed by darkness.

_Toby!_

Nancy's eyes flew open, instantly regretting it as the brightness from the light caused her head to explode in pain. Stifling a groan, she closed them once again, willing herself to take it slow. She needed to concentrate and take stock of her situation, then figure out a way to get out of this mess.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes to take inventory. Her arms felt as if they were about to be ripped from her body, which could only mean they were tied above her. Glancing up, she saw that her suspicions were correct-she was hanging from some kind of metal hook, her feet just brushing the ground below her. She also realized that she had been gagged. Her jacket had been removed and lifting her head slightly, she could see that her gun and phone sat on a nearby table littered with tools and trash.

_Okay...so now you need to figure out where you are._

There was a dampness to the air, so she reasoned she had to be underground somewhere. Perhaps a cellar of some type, considering there was dirt beneath her feet. A bare light bulb hung in the middle of the room, shelves lining the majority of the walls. Everything in the small room had been pushed to the sides, allowing the middle to be open and clear of obstructions.

As far as exits went, there was only one. While that could be a little troublesome, she could also work with it. She just needed to find a way to free herself.

Glancing at Stark and Toby, she saw they were still arguing with each other. That could actually give her something to work with. _Now, I just need to let them know I'm alive and kicking._

Letting out a loud moan, she wasn't surprised to see them stop their conversation and focus their attention on her.

Toby smiled as he approached her. "Detective...I was beginning to think I had given you too much."

Stark said nothing as he glared at Nancy, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You'll have to forgive Dr. Stark. I'm afraid he's not too happy with me right now. You weren't supposed to be here quite yet." He stopped in front of Nancy. "Now, I'm sure you have a lot of questions and we will be more than happy to answer them as long as you promise not to scream."

When Nancy didn't respond, he reached underneath his shirt and pulled a hunting knife from a sheath. Nancy's pulse quickened, but she didn't dare show any emotion.

"You can agree to the terms or I can simply cut out your tongue." Toby smiled as he ran his hand over the blade. "Did you know that happens to be a real fear? Waking up one day and being unable to speak?"

Nancy's eyes darted to Stark as the doctor chuckled.

"Would you like to speak, Detective?"

Nodding, she tried not to flinch as Toby reached forward and pulled the fabric away from her mouth. As soon as it was out, she flexed her jaw, trying to get the circulation going in it. "Where am I?"

"On my mother's property," Toby said. "She left it to me when she died."

_That was too easy. _"So, you two were in it together?"

"It was mostly me." Toby grinned as he glanced back at Stark. "The doctor just helped me by finding the people who were worthy."

"Worthy of what?"

"My gift."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Toby, be careful," Stark warned. "You don't need to tell her too much. She could be setting us up for all we know."

Nancy scoffed, glaring at Stark. "And when exactly did I have time to get set up with a wire? I'm not sure if you realize it or not, but your little protégé here knocked me out."

"You were the one who set up the meeting with Toby," Stark argued. "You had plenty of time to get wired."

"This is ridiculous."

"Well, there's one way to be sure," Toby said.

Nancy tried to jerk away from him but couldn't get any traction under her feet as she dangled helplessly. It was too soon to lash out at him-it would only serve to make him angry. As much as she was repulsed by it, she could only keep still as he patted her down.

"There's nothing on her," Toby said as he took a step back.

"Satisfied?" Nancy asked.

Toby smiled. "It doesn't matter what I tell her. The detective and I are going to be together for quite a while."

"So, you're just going to keep me like this?"

"For the time being."

"I vote we just kill you," Stark said. "You have been nothing but a pain in the ass since this investigation started. But Toby here seems to think you are special."

"What do you mean?" Nancy demanded.

"Let him explain it to you." Stark glanced at his watch. "I've got to go prepare for the other thing we discussed."

Nancy watched as Stark walked up the wooden stairs and opened the door above him. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through before the door was slammed shut, leaving her alone with Toby.

"What is he going to do?"

Toby shrugged. "You'll find out soon enough."

"What did he mean when he said you thought I was special?"

"You are special. You're just like me, Detective."

"I'm nothing like you."

"But you are." Toby retrieved a chair from the corner of the room and sat down in front of Nancy. "Maybe I should explain it to you."

"Maybe you should." Hope flared up in Nancy as she looked at the wooden chair. If she could just grab it and get her feet on top of it, she could free herself from the hook and get out of there.

"I was born with a gift," Toby began. "I have the ability to do something that no one else can."

"And what would that be?"

"I can take fears away."

"By killing innocent people?"

Toby shook his head as he smiled at Nancy. "By freeing them."

"Say it any way you want, but you're still murdering innocent people."

"You just don't understand, Detective." Toby shook his head sadly. "It's okay, though. The only person who really did was my mother. She's the one who told me I was special."

"And look where she is today." Nancy instantly regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

Toby shot up out of the chair, backhanding her. "Don't talk about my mother like that!"

Nancy flexed her mouth, tasting blood where he had busted her lip."What is it you think you can do, Toby?"

Toby beamed at the question as he returned to his seat. "I can see auras. Everyone has one. That's how I know who to help."

"Explain it to me."

"There are different colors, but the majority of people tend to have reddish orange aura. Those are the ones who have the most fear."

"If the majority of people have this so-called aura, then how do you choose who to kill?"

"I _help_ them." Toby closed his eyes for a brief second, as if he was trying to control his anger. When he opened his eyes, calmness seemed to wash over him. "As for how I chose them, their auras were brighter than the others. They were the ones who were desperate for my help."

"You said I was special. What color do you see when you look at me?"

When Toby smiled, it made her blood run cold. "That's the wonderful thing, Detective. You don't have one."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I look at you, I don't see anything. Your aura is clear. It's the same thing I see when I look into the mirror. You're special...like me."

"You think I'm not afraid of anything?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"Of course, I am," Nancy said. "I wouldn't be human if I wasn't."

Toby said nothing as he stared up at her.

Nancy swallowed down the sick feeling creeping through her body. It was clear that Toby was delusional. She had no idea how he was able to hide it so well-it should have been obvious. And the fact that Stark had helped him along made her blood boil. He was a doctor, someone people were supposed to be able to trust.

"Were you with Stark when he lost his license in Tennessee?"

"I was."

"You were the one responsible for the radical treatments," Nancy said, deciding to take a gamble. After all, it would make sense, if the murders here were any indication.

"It was a practice run," Toby said, shrugging. "I thought I could help them by pushing them to the very edge. But I realized it wasn't working. I needed to push them all the way."

Before Nancy could say anything to that, her cell phone rang. _Frank!_

"Now, who could that be, I wonder?" Toby got up from his chair and walked over to the table. Picking up the cell phone, he smiled as he glanced at the screen. "Looks like it's your partner."

"If I don't answer it, he'll get worried." Nancy winced as she attempted to stand up, trying to relieve some of the strain on her arms.

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Toby walked over to her, holding the knife to her throat. "All right. Talk to him. You say anything I don't like, it will make me angry. You don't want to piss me off, Detective."

"Hey, Frank," Nancy said when Toby pressed the talk button. "How's the game?"

_"It's okay. What took you so long to answer the phone?"_

"I was talking to the chief. You know how he is if you interrupt him with a phone call."

_"Yeah. How did the interview with Toby go?"_

"It went well." Nancy swallowed hard as Toby pressed the knife deeper into her throat. "He actually told me something that I want to check out."

_"Well, I think Joe and I are about to head back to River Heights. Do you want some help?"_

"That would be great. I wanted to check into his mother's death. Something about it doesn't sound right to me."

_"What do you mean?"_

Nancy watched as anger flashed through Toby's eyes. She had to give him credit though. He wasn't about to do anything to let Frank know he had her. She decided to press forward. "I found out that Stark has been raising Toby since he was fifteen."

_"You think there may be something suspicious with her death?"_

"Maybe. I want you to check everything, if you can. Check out her property, too. I think there might be something there."

"_What makes you think that?"_

"Just call it a gut feeling."

_"Okay. I'll talk to you later. Love you."_

"Love you, too." Nancy smirked as Toby yanked the phone away from her ear. "Sorry. Did I say too much?"

Toby began shaking. "Why did you do that, Detective? I gave you explicit instructions."

"I never was one to follow instructions."

When Toby smiled, it was the most chilling smile she had ever seen. She had pushed him too far. Nancy knew she needed to act if she had any chance against him. She waited until he was close before lashing out with her foot, knocking the knife out of his hand. Just as he bent down to retrieve the blade, Nancy kicked out again, connecting with his face, making him yell out in pain as he stumbled back and fell to the ground.

Not knowing how long she would have, she swung her legs towards the chair, grabbing it on the first try. Biting back a cry of pain, Nancy dragged it forward until she was able to put both feet on it. Standing to her full height, she unhitched herself from the metal hook. She then gingerly stepped off the chair, giving her legs a few seconds to acclimate with the floor.

Toby groaned on the floor and it was all the motivation she needed to get moving once again. She didn't have time to worry about the ropes around her wrists or her gun and phone. She needed to get to the door and get out of there before Toby could stop her.

Nancy willed her legs to move up the steep set of stairs. She had almost reached the top when she felt Toby's hand grip her ankle and yank her down. Letting out a scream, Nancy tried to kick back with her free leg, only to see stars as her head collided with a step.

"I was willing to take it easy on you, Detective, but you've left me with no other choice." Toby growled as he lifted her up. "Not only did you try to escape, you also lied to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Joseph Morgan...or should I say Joe Hardy?" Toby smiled. "You thought you were clever with him, didn't you?"

Nancy grunted as he tossed her to the ground. _He knew about Joe..._She had no idea what Toby had planned, but she knew it couldn't be good. She lifted her head to look at him, fear gripping her heart.

"You know, at first I was just going to go after Joe. But now that I found out you lied to me, I'm bringing your partner into the mix as well." He laughed as Nancy's eyes grew wide with fear. "There it is. Pure, uninhibited fear. You have it after all, Detective."

Before Nancy could say anything, his foot lashed out, connecting with her head.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter—it was certainly fun to write! And we still have more action to come! I apologize for any mistakes—this chapter was not beta'd and was written as I was battling a nasty summer cold. **

**A big, heaping thanks to the following reviewers: Mrs. Frank Hardy, Michelle Gallichio, unobtrusivescribe, nicolelylewis, bhar, hlahabibty, Caranath, Yelene-ryudream, Xdaisy chainX, cupcake, Liliththestormgoddess, rangermaid, and Marinebrat0311.**

**I also send a fond "Get Well Soon!" to zenfrodo…hope you're doing better, my friend!**

**And a Happy, Happy Birthday to the best beta in these parts, roswalyn! Have a great one, chick!**

**Until the next update!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Frank hung up the phone, frowning. Something wasn't right-he didn't have proof, but in his gut, he knew that something was wrong. Nancy didn't even argue with him when he told her that he and Joe were going to leave the game early. Ordinarily, she would have put up a fight, but she didn't do it this time.

That could only lead him to believe that something was wrong.

"Did you talk to her?" Joe asked. The crowd was so dense, he didn't even notice his brother appear at his side.

"Yeah." Frank put his phone into his pocket. "We have to go."

"But the game isn't over yet."

"You can watch the highlights on Sports Center tonight." Frank began pushing through the crowd, heading to the main gate.

"Did something happen?" Joe scrambled to catch up with him, offering a few apologies as he bumped into a few spectators.

"I'm not sure."

"Frank, slow the hell down and talk to me."

Frank let out a sigh as he stopped, pulling Joe into a less populated area. "She didn't say anything outright. It's just…a feeling that I have."

"What did she say to you?"

"It's more of what she didn't say that's making the alarm bells go off in my head. She didn't even try to argue with me when I told her we were leaving the game early."

Joe frowned. "That's weird, since she was practically trying to shove us out the door."

"Exactly." Frank ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "She wanted me to dig up some more information about Toby's mother."

"Why?"

"She's suspicious about her death." Frank started walking towards the car again. "Oh, and get this...Stark has been raising Toby since the kid's mother died."

"That never came up in my conversations with Toby. But it would make sense with the way that Stark favors him. I've watched them as they interacted together and it was kind of creepy."

Frank dug his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Joe. "You drive. I'm going to grab my laptop and see what I can find."

Joe shook his head as he unlocked the doors. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you carry it with you everywhere you go."

"First rule about being a detective—always be prepared."

"I thought that was the Boy Scouts."

Frank chuckled as he retrieved his bag from the trunk, before sliding into the passenger seat. He had it booted up before Joe pulled out into the flow of traffic, driving towards River Heights.

"Did she say anything else?" Joe asked.

Frank shook his head. "Not anything that would indicate she was in trouble."

"What if she couldn't?"

"I thought about that, too." Frank frowned as he remembered something else she said. "Nancy mentioned something about his mother's property."

"Did she say anything specific?"

"No...just that she had a feeling something was there. It was how she said it, like she was giving me a hint or something."

"It wouldn't hurt to check it out."

Frank said nothing as he typed a few things into the computer. They had already run a background check on Stark, and he thought it was odd that there didn't seem to be any mention about the doctor raising Toby. There should have been some kind of record claiming guardianship, especially since Toby had been a minor when his mother died.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" Joe asked after a while.

"I've looked through everything and I can't find any record of Stark gaining legal guardianship of Toby. There should be something here, considering Toby would need that in order to continue with school."

"Not if he dropped out of school."

Frank hit a few more keys on the laptop. "You're right. He dropped out of school shortly after his mother's death."

"He would still have to have a signature in order to officially drop out, though."

"True."

"But still, there should be some record of an adoption. I know under-the-table adoptions are common with babies, but not for teenagers." Joe slowed down as he went around a curve "But why would Stark go out of his way to help Toby?"

"I'm not going to be able to access his medical records without a court order, but what if he's been a patient of his for a lot longer than he let on?"

"That would make sense. Can you find out anything about Toby's mother's death?"

Frank tapped a few more keys. "According to the police report, she fell down a set of stairs and broke her neck. The coroner ruled it an accidental death. Toby was the one who found her."

Joe exchanged a look with Frank. "An accidental death?"

"That's what it says."

"We both know that's one of the easiest deaths to fake. All it takes is a gentle nudge."

"I think it takes a little more than that."

"You know what I mean," Joe said, excitement creeping into his voice. "Stark could have easily killed his mother. Push her down a flight of stairs and if the fall didn't kill her, it would have been no problem for him to snap her neck."

Frank frowned. "But why would Stark want to kill Toby's mom?"

"I don't know. But it's not that far-fetched of an idea."

"No, I guess not." Before Frank could say anything else, the car jerked forward as it was slammed from behind. "What the hell?"

Joe gripped the steering wheel tighter, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Some moron just rammed us."

Frank turned around in his seat to see an older car following closely behind them. He couldn't even make out the driver through the fog on the back windshield. "Does he want to pass us?"

"I'm not sure." Joe slowed down as he rolled down the window, waving at the other car to pass them.

Another hit from behind told them that wasn't the case. Someone was deliberately trying to force them off the road.

The only question was why.

Frank closed the computer, bracing himself against the dashboard as the car fishtailed wildly. His brother had experience with driving in these kinds of situations, so he wasn't worried about that. What did worry him was why in the world someone was trying to force them to wreck.

"I'm going to see if I can turn off into a less populated area," Joe said, gritting his teeth as they were hit again. "The last thing I want is for this idiot to kill someone."

"You mean besides us?"

Joe ignored him as he put on more speed, pulling away from the other car. Jerking the wheel to the right, he pulled off onto one of the back roads. The other car was caught by surprise, its brakes squealing loudly as it made the sudden turn.

"What's the plan?"

"At the moment, it's just to get away. We can figure out the rest later."

All of a sudden, the other car sped up, pulling to the side of theirs. Before Joe could even react, it slammed into them, sending them flying into the ditch. It was too late for Joe to maintain control of the vehicle as it crashed through a fence and into a clump of trees.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sound of the horn was like music to Stark's ears as he pulled his car to a stop along the side of the road and got out. It couldn't have went any more beautifully as the Hardys' car went flying through the fence, only to come to a dead stop against the two oak trees. He actually cursed his luck as they had turned onto this road, but it ended up working out better than he could have hoped. The back roads were less traveled, which meant there would be no interference.

Walking back to the trunk, he pulled out the small duffel bag, making sure he had all of his supplies. Satisfied, he began his trek to the steaming wreckage ahead of him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"I have them," Stark said as soon as Toby answered.

"_Good. You didn't have any trouble?"_

"Nothing that I couldn't handle." As Stark came closer to the car, he found both brothers slumped against the doors. Setting his bag down, he grabbed two syringes. He wasn't about to take any chances with these two, especially given their reputation. Besides, they still had quite a drive ahead of them.

"_How long will it take you to get back into town?"_

"Probably about an hour. I'll let you know once I have everything in place."

"_I'll be waiting."_

Stark hung up with Toby and set to work. Opening the driver's side door, he barely caught Joe as he slumped into his arms. Removing the cap from the syringe with his teeth, he stuck it into the young man's neck, emptying the contents into his bloodstream. Pulling him out and onto the grass, he reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of zip ties, securing his hands and feet.

Moving around to the other side, he opened Frank's door, surprised when the detective let out a groan and opened his eyes.

"Joe…"

"I'm afraid your brother is a little out of it at the moment," Stark said, smiling when Frank's eyes widened.

"You…" Frank began fumbling with his seatbelt, but Stark stopped him, grabbing his wrist tightly.

"You know, I was wondering how I was going to get the both of you back to my car. You've now made it a lot easier for me." Reaching behind his back, Stark pulled out a gun and aimed it at Frank's chest. "Get out of the car."

Frank hesitated, glancing at where Joe was sitting.

"Get out of the car, Detective, or you'll be carrying your dead brother back to the car." Stark kept the gun trained on him as Frank pushed the door open and stumbled out. "He's on the other side. You can carry him to my car."

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Frank asked.

"Yes, I really do."

Frank ignored him as he dropped beside his prone brother. "Joe? Joe, wake up!"

"He's not going to be waking up any time soon," Stark said, growing annoyed. "Pick him up and carry him back to the car. And don't even think about trying anything heroic, or he won't be the only one you're worrying about."

"What are you talking about?" Frank asked, lifting his sibling into a fireman's carry.

"Your partner." Stark smiled as Frank growled deep in his throat. "Toby's with her now. If anything goes wrong on my end, he'll kill her."

"He's going to kill her anyway, isn't he?"

"What do you think?" Stark nodded towards the car, his grip on the gun never wavering. "Your behavior determines how she dies, of course."

Frank said nothing as he carried Joe to the car, but Stark didn't miss the way his shoulders tensed at the threat. He definitely had a fear, all right. Toby had been right about him all along, which was going to make what was going to happen next that much more fun.

"Put Joseph into the backseat." Stark cocked the gun. "And don't forget, I still have this. I won't hesitate to shoot either of you, if I have to."

Watching as Frank did as he was instructed, Stark didn't give the detective any time as he thrust the other syringe into his neck. Frank could do nothing more than let out a startled cry as he slumped to the ground. Wasting no time, Stark made quick work as he bound Frank's hands and feet.

Then, lifting him up, he tossed him into the trunk, closing the lid tightly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nancy let out a soft moan as she slowly regained consciousness. Her head was throbbing as if there was a small child up there with his very first drum set, pounding away with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. All she wanted was to rip the drumsticks away from him and throw them as far as she could. Bringing her hands up to her head, she slowly massaged her temples, trying to relieve some of the pressure there. She wasn't surprised to feel a damp stickiness there, and she didn't have to open her eyes to know it was blood.

Speaking of opening her eyes, she pried them open, surprised when she was met with darkness. She couldn't even see her own hands it was so dark. _Okay, sit up and figure out where the hell you are._

Nancy instantly regretted that decision when her head collided with a hard surface above her, searing pain ripping through her body. She let out a pitiful moan, bringing her hands up to her head once again. She felt as if she was going to be sick, bile rising up in her throat. Somehow, she managed to push it down, though it took a few moments to do so.

"Let's try that one again," she said softly, her own voice comforting her slightly in the darkness. She sat up slowly, using her hands as a guide so she didn't have another collision with whatever it was that was above her.

Her hands brushed against silky fabric. Frowning, she continued to move her hands around her, feeling it on all sides. As her hands fell back to her sides, she realized she was lying on a soft silky surface. A sickening feeling twisted inside her as an idea of where she was began to form in her head. To test her theory, she reached out with her foot and felt another hard surface. If she reached behind her, she knew she would feel the same thing.

A casket.

Fear instantly seized her as she pounded on the wood above her, screaming. The lid to the casket moved just a little, and hope flared up inside her as a sliver of moonlight appeared in the crack. If the lid was moving, it meant that she wasn't buried.

"Let me out of here!" Nancy yelled.

There was a loud thump above her, followed by the sound of Toby's voice. "You may want to calm down, Detective Drew. You would hate to speed up your death by panicking, wouldn't you?"

Nancy hated to admit it, but she knew he was right. She'd read reports of people being buried alive, whether it was intentional or accidental. All of the experts had said the worst thing you could do was panic. At best, a coffin provided a person with one to two hours of oxygen, though sometimes it could be longer. She had no idea how long she had been there, but she had to safely assume she had less than two hours remaining.

"Good girl," Toby said. "Besides, it's not as if you could get out anyway. I have you locked tightly inside, just in case you get any ideas."

"Where am I?"

"Well, isn't that a silly question?" Toby asked, knocking on the wood. "There are several words for it: coffin…casket…tomb…sarcophagus. Take your pick."

She had to talk to him, try to reason. Anything to keep her mind off the horrible death that possibly awaited her. "You don't have to do this, Toby."

Silence greeted her and for a second, she thought he had left her alone. "Toby?"

"I'm still here."

"How long have I been in here?"

"A half hour, give or take."

So, her guess had been right. She had an hour and a half at most until she suffocated. Closing her eyes, she took a few calming breaths. She couldn't think about that, or she would begin to panic. No matter what, she couldn't panic.

"Why are you doing this, Toby?"

"Because I have a gift to share with the world. I told you that."

"But you said I was like you. You said I didn't have anything I feared. You told me I didn't have an aura."

"You are like me," Toby said. "You may not have anything you truly fear, Detective, but there is someone else who does."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Your partner. This stopped being about you after you tried to escape from me."

"What does that mean, Toby? What are you going to do to him?"

"I'm going to free him from his fears. He needs my help, Detective Drew."

"No, he doesn't. Frank doesn't need anything from you. Please, Toby…whatever you're going to do…don't do it. I'm sorry if I upset you by trying to escape. Let me out of here and you can do whatever you want to me." Nancy hated herself for begging, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. She didn't want Frank or Joe to get hurt because of her.

"It's too late. Things have already been set into motion."

"What things?" Silence greeted her once again. "Toby?"

Suddenly, the casket jerked as it began to move. Terror instantly seized her as she could feel herself being lowered. Screaming, Nancy began pounding on the lid in earnest, desperate to get out of her prison.

"I told you that you needed to calm down, Detective," Toby yelled as the casket came to a stop. "And to show you I'm not completely heartless, I left you with a few items. You should find a phone, along with a flashlight. Tap on the lid if you find them."

Nancy felt around frantically, her hands closing around the mentioned items. Turning on the flashlight, she felt somewhat calmer as the light enveloped her.

"Detective? Did you find them?"

Using the flashlight, Nancy tapped on the lid.

"Good. The phone will come into use later and before you get any ideas, you can't place any outgoing calls. There's also one more item down there with you. It should be by your feet."

Nancy felt around with her feet, frowning when something hard greeted her. Pushing it up as far as she could, she reached for it, instantly recognizing it as the flashlight glinted on the cool metal.

It was her gun.

"I left you one bullet in the chamber. It's your decision whether you use it or not."

Closing her eyes, Nancy knew what the gun was there for. He left it so she could kill herself so she wouldn't have to suffer.

Her eyes instantly flew open as the sound of a loud motor greeted her ears, followed by a loud rumbling. A few seconds later, a series of taps sounded above her head, followed by a loud thud. The wood around her began to groan and it took only a split second for her to realize why.

Nancy Drew was six feet underground, being buried alive.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Okay, so that was like two cliffhangers in a single chapter. I'm evil…I know. **

**Sorry that I couldn't update any sooner, but everything seemed to pile on me this past week. Not only was my little sister in the hospital for a few days, I came down with a bad sinus infection and laryngitis, on top of the cold that I had been dealing with for the past two weeks. Needless to say, I am loaded up on medication at the moment. **

**Which brings me to any mistakes you may find…sorry in advance! See the above reason for my excuse.**

**As always, I want to thank my awesome readers and reviewers: Caranath, Liliththestormgoddess, Xdaisy chainX, marinebrat0311, hlahabibty, unobtrusivescribe, Michelle Gallichio, PerfectPrincess, Bookfanatic67, rangermaid, Roswalyn, roxy, zenfrodo (your rant amused me and I loved it!), and cupcake.**

**Until next time and Happy Fourth of July! **


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Many times in his life, Joe had heard that when someone felt bad, they felt like hell. He always wondered about that expression, especially since he knew it wasn't physically possible. After all, how could a person know what hell felt like without actually going there?

Today, he was one of those people because Joe Hardy felt like absolute hell. Every part of his body hurt. His head felt like it was going to literally split open and he had aches in places he never knew he could hurt. His tongue felt thick, his mouth dry—the sure tale-tell signs of being drugged.

Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see he was in Frank and Nancy's apartment. He was even more surprised to find himself sitting in a chair, his hands tied tightly behind him, his feet bound to the legs of the chair.

Not exactly what he was expecting to find when he regained consciousness. He thought perhaps he would be in a hospital room with a hot nurse offering to give him a sponge bath. Which would be followed by a very angry Vanessa tearing him a new one for even entertaining that thought.

He also didn't expect Dr. Stark sitting across from him, smiling in that smug way criminals did when they thought they had won.

"Where's my brother?"

Stark frowned. "I'm surprised that would be your first question, Joseph."

"It's Joe. But I'm pretty sure you already have that figured out."

"Yes. The three of you thought you were pretty clever with that little charade, didn't you? They couldn't get me to say anything implicating so they decided to send you in. What exactly were you hoping to get from me?" Stark stood up and began pacing in front of Joe. "I actually liked you, Joseph."

"Again, it's Joe."

Stark ignored him. "I really wanted to help you, especially after what you had gone through."

"By help, you mean have me killed, right?" Joe rotated his wrists, trying to work some slack into the ropes. He could feel them give just the slightest bit, which gave him all the encouragement he needed. "Just like you did for the others?"

"We were helping them."

"I'm guessing by 'we,' you're talking about you and Toby?"

"No one ever suspected Toby could be involved. He was perfect for what I wanted to achieve—friendly, trusting. Hell, even your brother and future sister-in-law never suspected him. They had their sights set on me the entire time, which worked out perfectly for the two of us. Toby was able to freely continue on his path, helping the ones he saw worthy."

"You're sick."

"Call it what you want. Do you have any idea how pathetic all of you are with your silly little fears? The way you let it dictate your lives just astounds me."

"If you're so disgusted with it, then why do you continue to treat them?" Joe continued working with the ropes, watching as Stark reached behind the counter and picked up a red plastic gas can.

"Because no matter how much I pity you, I still think you're fascinating. Tell me something, Joseph—when you sat in my office talking about your fears, were they valid?"

Joe chuckled as he shook his head. "I had to come up with something in order to get you to let me into your little group. I would have gone with heights, but that was already taken. And spiders and snakes just seemed too girly."

"So, this doesn't bother you then?" Stark tipped the can over, spilling some of the gas in front of Joe. He smiled when Joe said nothing. "Tell me which part of your story was true."

"None of it was."

"I know you're lying. Every story that a person tells is based on truth." Stark began walking around the apartment, soaking everything in his path. "Sure, they may color it up a bit or add a few details here and there. But every single story that a person tells still has some semblance of truth. I checked up on you, Joseph."

Joe coughed as the fumes began to choke him, but didn't stop his efforts of getting free from the ropes. It was obvious that Stark was going to kill him. Well, if it was going to happen, it wasn't going to be without a fight. "Then why don't you tell me since you seem to know so much about me?"

Stark threw the gas can to the side and picked up another one. "A few years ago, your girlfriend, Iola Morton, was killed by a car bomb that was meant for you and your brother. There was nothing you could do for her. She died because of you."

Swallowing hard, Joe said nothing. Stark was right—he'd been consumed with guilt after it had happened, spending night after restless night wishing it had been him in the car, instead of Iola.

"I'll take your silence as a confirmation that I'm right."

"That still doesn't mean anything," Joe said, glaring. "Tell me where my brother is."

"He's not here, if that's what you're wondering."

"Where is he?"

"He's safe, for the time being." Stark poured the last of the gas in a circle around Joe before returning to his seat in front of Joe. "You see, Toby and I began to notice something as the police were investigating the murders."

"And what was that?"

"We can play on everyone's fears, but they get boring after a while. I mean, dealing with heights and fire and the dark...it's all kind of monotonous and boring. But your brother possesses something that is pure and fascinating."

"What do you mean?" Joe had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Stark was getting entirely too much pleasure, as if what he was about to tell Joe was the best kept secret in town.

"He fears for others, especially that partner of his. I know you've had to notice it, the way he is when he's around her." Stark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his lap. "Tell me something, Joseph. How does he act when she's not around?"

"He worries about her nonstop," Joe answered, the sickening feeling growing.

"He does. And she's not the only one he worries about. You should have seen the way he was after I ran the two of you off the road. He didn't care about what happened to himself, only that you were okay." Stark smiled. "And that gives us more variables to work with."

The ropes were beginning to slip down his hands. He just needed to get it over one hand. "What are you going to do?"

"We're giving him a choice. It's one that you're probably curious about yourself."

"What choice?"

"He gets to choose who lives and who dies."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wakey, wakey...you're wasting time by sleeping, Detective Hardy."

Frank opened his eyes to find himself sitting in the middle of a cellar, his hands tied behind him. The voice sounded vaguely familiar to his ears, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Who's there?" Frank demanded, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Answer me!"

Toby stepped out of the shadows and chuckled. "Now, now…there's no need to get angry."

"Where is she?" Frank demanded, struggling against the ropes. If Toby was here, then Nancy had to be close by since Stark had told him she was with Toby.

"Who?"

"You know damn well who I'm talking about! Where is Nancy?"

Toby shrugged. "She's not here."

"Tell me where she is you son of a bitch! I know she was with you!"

"You're right. She _was_ with me."

"What did you do to her?"

"We'll get to that portion of our show in a few minutes." Toby smiled as he tilted his head. "Aren't you curious about your brother?"

Frank turned his head, searching around the dark cellar for his sibling.

Toby sighed. "He's not here either. Wow, you really are transparent when it comes to the two of them, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you even care about what happens to yourself?"

"No," Frank answered truthfully. "Where are they?"

Toby shook his head in wonder. "That's absolutely amazing. Most people only care about themselves, but you don't."

"What can I say? I never was part of the in crowd." Frank twisted his wrists, trying to work some slack into the ropes. "Tell me where they are."

"Well, your brother is with the doctor at your apartment. I'm afraid Stark wasn't too happy when he found out that Joe was a fraud. But it's working out just fine—he's going to show Joe what it's like to really fear fire. If there is one thing that he hates, it's to be embarrassed."

"I'm sure my brother feels terrible about hurting the crackpot's feelings."

Anger flashed in Toby's eyes as he backhanded Frank. "Don't talk about him like that."

Frank ignored the throbbing in his face. "I'm sorry-did I hurt your feelings, too?"

Letting out a growl, Toby gripped the front of Frank's shirt, pulling him close. "Maybe it's time I hurt your feelings. Would you like me to tell you what I did to your partner? Would you like to hear how she's slowly suffocating to death?"

Frank's mouth went dry. "What did you do?"

"Let's put it this way. If and when she dies, I saved you the trouble and expense of putting together a funeral." Toby rolled his eyes at Frank's blank stare. "I buried her alive, jackass."

"No..."

Toby let go of Frank's shirt. "You don't believe me? How about we give her a call and she can tell you herself?" Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Toby dialed a number, smiling at Frank. "Hello, Detective Drew. I have someone here who would very much like to know where you are. Would you care to enlighten him?"

Toby pressed a button on the phone and held the phone out to Frank. "Nancy?"

_"Frank?"_

There was no denying the fear in her voice as it filled the room. Frank felt his own fear magnified as the sound of her voice pierced his heart. "Nan, are you okay?"

_"No, I..."_ She let out a shuddering breath. _"I don't know where I am, Frank."_

"He told me he buried you alive. Is that true?" _Please, let this bastard be screwing with me. Don't tell me he's right, Nancy. Please just tell me you're locked up in a room somewhere. At least I could handle that for the time being, but not if he buried you._

_"He's right, Frank. I'm in friggin' casket." _He heard a banging sound which could only mean that she was hitting the lid. "_I-I can't get out."_

It was a good thing that Frank was tied to a chair or he would have ripped out the freak's throat right then and there. As it was, he could only lunge at him which only seemed to amuse Toby.

"Nancy, it's going to be okay. I'm going to find you and get you out of there, okay? Just try to stay calm and don't give up on me, okay?"

_"Please, don't hang up. Keep talking to me, Frank. I don't know if I can do this..."_

"Sorry, Detective Drew. I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this conversation short. Don't worry, we'll check in with you very shortly to see if you're still with us," Toby said.

_"No, please don't hang up!"_

Someone may as well have stabbed Frank in the heart as Nancy let out a choked sob before Toby disconnected the call. He had never heard such fear in her voice before. She was beyond terrified and he had no idea where she was or how to help her.

"Why did you do that to her?"

"Because it amuses me." Toby smiled. "Did you know that being buried alive is one of the most basic human fears? It dates back to thousands of years ago when it was a very common practice. At one time, there was even a coffin invented that included a bell so a person could ring it if they happened to be buried alive by accident."

Frank couldn't care less about a history lesson on burials. "Let her go and put me in her place."

Toby studied him for a few moments. "You would actually do it, wouldn't you?"

"Without hesitation."

"That's very noble and sweet of you, but no."

"Why the hell not?" Frank yelled.

"Because that's not the way this works. At the beginning, it may have been about Detective Drew, but you're the one who changed the game, Detective Hardy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You wear you fear on your sleeve. You're practically screaming for my help." Toby ran his hands through his hair, gripping his head as he stared in Frank in exasperation. "Don't you get it? You _need_ my help. You need to free yourself from these fears."

"I don't need a damn thing from you! Tell me where my fiancée and brother are!"

"No."

"You son of a bitch!" Frank began struggling violently in his chair. He could feel the ropes digging into his skin, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but getting to Nancy and Joe.

"I wanted to give you a choice, Detective Hardy, but I can see you've left me with none of my own."

"Meaning what?"

"I'm giving you the best gift of all. I'm taking the both of them out of the equation. Think of how free you'll be, not having to spend all of your time worrying about them."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this guy serious? How the hell could he think he would be any better off without Nancy or Joe?

"It's supposed to make you feel liberated." Toby closed his eyes, his body shaking as if he was beginning to lose patience. "You know, a little gratitude would be nice."

"I apologize if I'm not feeling gracious about the fact you're wanting to kill two of the people I love most."

"I know this is hard to accept, Detective Hardy, but one day you will thank me for this. You'll be glad I gave you this gift."

Frank wasn't going to be able to convince Toby not to kill them. He could see his mind was already set, that he truly thought he was doing Frank a favor. He was going to lose his brother and Nancy. "Please, Toby...you don't have to do this. You're right about the both of them. I do spend much of my time worrying about them, but it's also what encourages me to get up every morning. They're the reason I do what I do and if I don't have them, then I have nothing."

"I know that's what you believe, Detective, but that's your fear talking."

"No, it isn't."

"I'm sorry, Detective Hardy, but I have to do this."

"What about you, Toby? Isn't there something that you're afraid of, but you hold onto it anyway?" Frank didn't give him a chance to answer. "You're afraid to be alone yourself. It's obvious from the way that you follow him around and never leave his side."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Your father ran out on you when you were little, then your mother died leaving Stark to care for you. Why him, Toby?"

"Stark always cared about me, even before my mother died. He was like a father to me when I was a kid."

An idea began to form in Frank's head. "What kind of interest did Stark have in you?"

"He thought I was special. He told my mom that I was special."

"Did he say why?"

Toby shook his head. "He never gave me a reason. It was after I told him I could read people's fears. He told my mom, and she freaked out."

"Freaked out how?"

"She told Stark that she was going to put a stop to the sessions. She said they weren't helping me, they were making me worse."

"How did Stark feel about that?"

"He was angry."

"How long before your mother's death did she tell Stark she was pulling you out of therapy?"

"A couple of days, I think..."

_Bingo. _

"Did you ever question your mother's death?"

Toby shook his head. "It was an accident. That's what Dr. Stark told me the police said."

"That's what he wanted you to believe, Toby. It's too big of a coincidence—don't you see it? Right after your mom tells the doctor she wants to pull you out, she dies from a so-called accident. What if her death wasn't an accident at all?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Who took care of you after she died?"

"Stark..."

Frank nodded. "He didn't want your mother to take you away from him. He couldn't stand to lose you."

"Why would he do that?"

"Look what he's making you do, Toby. You're killing innocent people on the premise that you're helping them. He's turned you into a murderer all because he has you convinced that you have some kind of gift."

"You're wrong...I've been helping them. I've been setting them free."

"No. And now you're about to kill two more innocent people all because you think you're helping me."

"I'm not going to listen to this," Toby said, shaking his head as he became more agitated.

Frank knew he was pushing him but he had to make Toby see things more clearly. He needed him to realize how much Stark was manipulating him. "Toby, just call him and ask him. You told me you're able to read people. Call him and see if he's lying to you."

Toby turned away from Frank, saying nothing. Frank took advantage of the moment, working more frantically on the ropes around his wrists. He could feel blood oozing down his hands which only helped to serve as a lubricant. He just needed to focus and get himself free. Taking out Toby wouldn't be any problem and once he did that, he could get to Joe and Nancy.

"Did you kill my mother?"

Frank glanced up at the sound of Toby's anxious voice to see that he was talking on the phone.

"He told me that you killed my mother—is it true?" Toby listened for a few moments as he gripped his head with his free hand. "I—I don't know. He told me that you did it because you were angry at her for trying to pull me from therapy."

_Keep working on it, Hardy. Get yourself loose, especially if Toby's expression is anything to go by at the moment. The kid looks like he's about to crack._

"I knew it…" Toby stared at Frank, his expression becoming hard. Frank couldn't be sure if that was in his favor or if Stark was brainwashing him to believe something else. "I'm finished playing games. I'm tired of everyone thinking they can push me around."

It was right then that Frank knew he had lost Toby. And the killer's next words confirmed those fears.

"I think it's time that we changed the game a little," Toby said, gripping the phone tighter. "Detective Hardy is about to know what it's like to live a life without fear."

Frank's mouth went dry. "Toby, don't—"

"Detective Drew is already pretty much a goner. I say it's time to kill his brother."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**I know…I left it on another cliffhanger. But before you go screaming at me, you should realize it is fun for me for two reasons: I love writing them and I love getting a reaction out of you. **

**Many, many thanks to the following reviewers: bhar, Michelle Gallichio, unobtrusivescribe, zenfrodo **_**(my sister and I are alive and kicking and feeling much better!)**_**, Guest #1, hlahabibty **_**(He buried Nancy for no other reason than he explained to Frank above—it is a basic human fear and it amused him; And you are right, Toby did see his weakness was Nancy, but when Joe jumped in the picture, it made it that much more intriguing for him. I hope that answers your questions!)**_**, Xdaisy chainX, Caranath, Liliththestormgoddess, Mrs. Frank, Hardy, and Guest #2. **

**I apologize for any mistakes and look forward to what you think!**

**Until next time!**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Joe had a sinking feeling as he saw Stark's expression as the doctor hung up the phone. It was almost predatory, like a lion sizing up its next meal. Whatever was about to happen next, Joe knew he wasn't going to like it.

If he was going to be honest, he was completely freaked out. Sure, he had put up a brave front as Stark was dousing the apartment with gasoline, but it was just his way of blocking out how bad his situation was. All it would take would be one little spark and the place would become an inferno. And while Joe had plenty of ideas and ways he could die, burning alive wasn't on his Top Ten list.

What scared him the most was the fact that Stark had told him Frank would have to choose between him and Nancy. He honestly had no idea who his brother would pick, or if he would even be capable _of_ choosing. Frank was fiercely protective of the ones he loved and to have him choose one over the other would destroy him. Knowing Frank, he wouldn't choose—he would find the one way that could save them all, even if it killed him in the process.

Joe knew his brother didn't care what happened to himself, as long as Joe and Nancy were safe in the end. Well, Joe couldn't let that happen. He couldn't have Frank sacrifice himself for the two of them and he knew Nancy would feel the same way.

Speaking of Nancy, Stark still hadn't told him anything about her. He had no idea if she was tucked away somewhere in the apartment, wherever Frank and Toby was, or somewhere else entirely.

"I'm guessing that phone call wasn't good news," Joe said, watching as Stark walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through drawers. "You look as if someone kicked your puppy."

"Let's just say that your brother is grasping at any straw he can get his hands on and trying to turn Toby against me," Stark said. "You wouldn't happen to know where you keep the matches, would you?"

_Not good at all. It's time to see about getting out of here._ Joe immediately set to work on his bonds once more. He just needed to give them a couple of hard tugs and he should be free. "My mom always told me not to play with them," Joe said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"You sound afraid, Joseph."

"Sorry if my idea of spending a quiet night at home doesn't involve being tied to a chair and roasted alive." He winced as the ropes scraped against his raw skin. "So, I'm guessing that my brother chose who he was going to save."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Well, you seem a little more excited and you're practically tearing the place apart to find some matches. You would think you would be a little more prepared to kill someone, making sure you had all of your materials with you."

Stark chuckled. "You really are amusing, Joseph."

"So I've been told."

"Here they are!" Stark smiled as he shook the box of matches, walking towards Joe. "I may not have been as prepared as I should have been, but things always work out in the end. And as for your brother, he didn't choose."

Joe frowned. "Then what's going on?"

"It seems the detective may have pushed on Toby a little too hard. The kid is beginning to lose it, which isn't going to look very well for him at his trial."

"So, you're letting him take the fall? I thought he meant something to you."

"He does mean something to me—he's like a son. But none of the murders will be traced back to me—it's all on Toby." Stark sighed as he shook his head sadly. "There is only so much you can do to protect the ones you love before you realize there's nothing more you can do for them."

"So, what happens now?" Joe almost had one of his hands loose. Just one hard tug and he would be free.

"Well, according to Toby, Detective Drew is pretty much dead, so that means there's only you to deal with."

Joe froze, staring up a Stark in alarm. "What do you mean, she's pretty much dead?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention where she was?" Stark smiled. "Toby wanted her to experience one of the most primitive human fears. Would you care to take a guess?"

Joe's expression hardened. No way in hell was he about to play a game with the psycho doc.

"Can't come up with anything? Well, I don't blame you, considering you have a lot on your mind at the moment."

"Just tell me what he did to her."

Stark shook his head. "It's really better if you don't know. It's bad enough to spend the last few minutes of your life agonizing over your own death, but to think about someone else's...I simply cannot do that to you, Joseph."

"What will happen to Frank?" Joe asked just as he managed to free one of his hands. He schooled his features as he stared at Stark, not wanting to let him know that he was free. He just needed to find some way to untie his feet.

"Your brother learns to live his life without the two of you."

"You really think he's going to do that?" Joe's eyes roamed around the apartment, seeking out anything sharp. And then he saw it—there was a knife on the table just out of reach.

"Eventually. No doubt it will take some time to mourn your deaths, but he'll learn to move on win his life."

"He won't let you get away with it."

Stark smiled. "Why don't you let me worry about that? I think we've talked enough, don't you?"

This was it—now or never. Just as Stark was pulling a match from the box, Joe launched himself at the doctor, knocking the box away. Stark was taken by complete surprise, but Joe didn't give him time to recover as he landed a right hook. He took advantage of Stark's surprise, reaching for the knife on the table.

Just as his hand closed around it, he heard the unmistakable sound of a match striking the box. He didn't even have time to yell as Stark tossed it to the floor, the room immediately going up in flames. Joe knew he didn't have much time. He quickly cut the ropes around his ankles, freeing himself from the chair, doubling over as thick smoke began choking him. Glancing up, he watched as Stark ran for the door and out into the hallway.

Flames danced in front of him as they consumed everything in their path. He needed to find an opening and get out of there before he became trapped in the apartment. Fire surrounded him everywhere he looked. His best bet was going to be to jump through them and pray he didn't catch on fire.

Pulling his shirt over his face, Joe finally found his opening and leapt towards the door as the fire alarm shrilled in the background. He wasn't sure if Stark had pulled it or if it was because of the smoke detectors. It didn't matter as long as it got everyone out of the building and to safety.

Bolting into the hallway, Joe joined the swarm of people coming out of their apartments. He ignored all of their questions as he tried to calmly herd them down the stairwell. It was hard to remain calm himself knowing that Stark had gotten away and his brother and Nancy were out there somewhere.

Just as he emerged onto the sidewalk with the other residents, he spotted Stark a few yards ahead of him. Stark's eyes widened slightly before he took off running. Joe wasted no time as he pushed through everyone, keeping the doctor in his sights. No way in hell was he about to lose him—he was the only one who could lead him to Frank and Nancy.

"Stop him!" Joe yelled, hoping someone would listen to him, but everyone just ignored him as they turned their focus to the burning apartment complex.

Letting out a growl, Joe saw his opening. Dodging down one of the alleys, he decided to cut Stark off, knowing he could reach the other end of the block before the older man. Just as the psychologist darted past, Joe caught him in a flying tackle, bringing the doctor to the sidewalk.

"Where are they?" Joe yelled, pulling Stark up by his shirt and slamming his back against the wall.

"You're supposed to be dead!"

"Next time, try harder." Joe bared his teeth. "Answer me or I'll throw you back into that fire myself!"

Stark chuckled as he spit out blood at Joe's feet. "You're not a killer, Joseph."

Joe cut off Stark's laugh, pressing his arm into his throat. "Try me. Now, tell me where they are."

Stark's eyes widened and Joe couldn't help but feel proud of the fear he saw in his eyes. "You-your brother is at Toby's childhood home. The property is s-still in his mother's name."

"Give me her name."

"Margaret Collins. The house is r-right outside of town. A-about ten minutes!"

"And Nancy?"

"I-I don't know!" Stark gasped as Joe applied more pressure. "All right! Sh-she's at the River Heights Memorial Gardens! Toby b-buried her there but I-I don't know where!"

Joe felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Nancy was buried in the cemetery, which had to mean that Toby had already killed her even before Stark had taken him and Frank. "He killed her?"

Stark tried to shake his head though it was difficult with Joe's arm on his throat. "She's alive...I think."

_The bastard buried her alive._ A new wave of anger washed over Joe and if it wasn't for the squad car that pulled up at that moment, Joe was pretty sure he would have killed Stark.

"It-it was Toby's idea!" Stark yelled as an officer pulled Joe away from him. "I had nothing to do with it, Joseph!"

"Joe, what's going on?" Chief McGinnis had come from the passenger side, joining them. "We just got a call saying your car had been found abandoned right before we got the call about Nancy's apartment being on fire."

Joe nodded towards Stark. "You want your answers, ask him. I have to go find my brother and Nancy."

McGinnis caught Joe by the arm as he tried to push past them. "Are they still in the apartment?"

"No. Everyone should be out." Joe pulled his arm away. "I have to go before it's too late. Stark is one of your killers but there is still another one out there."

"I'm going with you. It's been a while since I've been involved in any action and that's two of my detectives out there. "

Joe let out a sigh, knowing he wasn't going to shake the chief. "Fine, but we have to move now. I don't know how much time we have left."

"Just tell me what you need."

"I need an address for Margaret Collins. Stark said that Frank would be there," Joe jogged towards the squad car. "I'll fill you in on the rest on the way there."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_He hung up. I may not ever get to hear his voice again._

Those words kept echoing in Nancy's head, seeming to get louder and louder each time. Even though Toby had told her the phone wouldn't make any outgoing calls, she still tried, desperate to hear Frank's voice again. But he had been right—every time she dialed the number, it disconnected before the call could go through.

She was well and truly alone and she was going to die that way.

Nancy let out a frustrated scream, pounding at the lid of the casket. She honestly didn't know how much longer of her confinement she could stand. Her whole body was tingling and she wanted to literally just tear her way out of her skin.

Hot tears trailed down the sides of her face as she began clawing at the silk covering the lid. She had to get out of there, even if it required her to dig herself out of the grave. She'd seen it done on television shows and movies and for a fleeting moment, she thought she could do it as well.

She kept clawing, ignoring the pain as her nails broke under the pressure. Blood began to ooze down her hands and it took a few seconds for her to realize it was her blood. The tips of her fingers had started to bleed where she had rubbed them raw against the wood grain surface where she had torn the fabric.

"Stop it, Nancy! You're only letting your panic get to you. Calm down and breathe before you die even sooner. There is still a chance for someone to find you."

Nancy took a couple of deep breaths, wanting to believe what she was telling herself. But she knew the odds were stacked against her. If she was going by Toby's timeframe he'd given her, she had forty five minutes at best. And that was only if she managed to stay calm.

Letting out a sob, Nancy clutched her head in her hands. She would allow herself that weakness, at least. She wasn't about to pretend she wasn't sacred of dying, especially when she still had so much to do with her life.

She was engaged to be married. She still had a wedding to plan. One day, she wanted to start a family with Frank. She wanted the birthday parties and graduations and to have grandchildren sitting in her lap, reading a story. She wanted to die at a very old age with Frank at her side.

But Nancy wasn't going to get any of that, if she looked at things realistically. She had never been in such a serious situation. Sure, she'd faced her fair share of murderers and other dangerous criminals, but she had always managed to find her way out of trouble. This was different. There was nothing she could do but wait to take that final breath.

Nancy broke down, sobbing uncontrollably and thankful that no one could see her. Anyone who knew her would never believe she could be this weak and helpless. She was supposed to be strong and determined.

_The gun. Toby left you the gun, Nancy. You don't have to suffer anymore. Just take it and pull the trigger._

"I can't do it," Nancy whispered. "Frank would never forgive me if I did that."

_Frank would understand. He wouldn't want you to suffer, would he?_

"No. He doesn't like to see me in pain."

_Close your hand around the gun. Pick it up and feel it. That's what's real._

Nancy did as the voice in her head instructed, her hand wrapping around the cool metal. It was comforting in a strange way—not in the way it was when she was pursuing a criminal. Instead, it was soothing like a teddy bear would be to a small child.

_You don't have to suffer anymore, Nancy. Don't you want it to stop?_

"Yes..."

_You deserve to be free. Why should you wait for your death to come? You can put a stop to it now._

Clutching the gun tighter, Nancy pressed the barrel into her chest. Toby had said he'd left her one bullet. She thought it was ridiculous at the time, knowing she would never use it. But the voice whispering to her was making sense. She didn't want to suffer anymore and wait for death to claim her.

She wanted peace.

Swallowing hard, Nancy released the safety, her finger hovering just above the trigger. One little squeeze and she could finally rest.

_Do it, Nancy. Save yourself._

"I'm so sorry, Frank. I just hope you and everyone else can forgive me."

Closing her eyes, Nancy squeezed the trigger.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Okay, before you start sending me the hate mail, I know this is not in character for Nancy. All I ask is that you take a step back and put yourself in her place—she's desperate and scared to death, thinking it's truly over for her. There is no one in this world who would want to suffer unless they are a masochist. **

**And yes, it's another cliffhanger—last one of the story, I think.**

**As always, I want to thank my reviewers: Caranath, nicolelylewis, unobtrusivescribe, hlahabibty, Liliththestormgoddess, Xdaisy chainX, rangermaid, Lady Emily, Cupcake, zenfrodo, bhar, McQuirk, Michelle Gallichio, SarahE7191, and Guest.**

**I'm thinking there is still one or two chapter—not sure which yet. I apologize for any mistakes.**

**Until next time!**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Primal rage coursed through Frank's body as Toby hung up the phone with a smile. It was a feeling he couldn't remember ever experiencing before in his life. It started as a slow simmer first, gradually building its way up to a boil until finally, Frank felt as if a volcano had erupted inside of him. He ripped his hands free from the ropes and launched himself at Toby.

Toby realized a split second too late what was happening. He never had time to prepare for Frank's assault before Frank crashed into him, sending him smashing to the ground. Frank delivered a swift uppercut, grabbing a dazed Toby by his shirtfront and lifting him up so he was right in front of his face.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now!" Toby began laughing, which only served to piss Frank off even more. "You think this is some kind of joke? You just took everything from me, so I really have nothing holding me back from tearing out your throat!"

"It's unfortunate about your brother, but what if I told you there might still be a chance to save Detective Drew?"

Frank said nothing, giving Toby a violent shake.

"It's a very slim chance, but still one nonetheless." Toby smiled, his teeth stained red with blood. "If you kill me, you may never know."

"I'm not playing any of your damn games! Tell me where she is, you son of a bitch!"

"Get off of me and we'll talk."

"No way in hell."

Toby shrugged. "It's your choice. But the longer you play the intimidating bad cop routine, the less time she has."

Frank glared at him for a few moments, considering his options. If there was any chance at all of Nancy being alive and he could save her, he was going to take it. But he also didn't want Toby to trick him and catch him by surprise again. Finally, Frank decided he couldn't risk Nancy if she was still alive. He'd already likely lost Joe unless his brother managed to escape by some miracle.

Toby pushed Frank away, pulling a gun out of his waistband and aiming it at Frank's chest. "You really are that pathetic. Did you honestly think I wouldn't have a back-up plan? But hey… maybe you will get the chance to save her, after all."

Frank could have kicked himself as he took a step away from Toby, keeping his eyes on the gun. _Dammit, Hardy. You should be thinking logically, not with your emotions. You're going to end up getting yourself killed, and then what kind of help will you be? _"Where is she?"

"Have you ever stopped to consider what she must be going through? Lying in there all by herself, just waiting to take her final breath. Thinking of everything she never got to say, the people she never got to call to tell them goodbye. I bet she's thinking she won't ever get to talk to you again. Can you imagine what that must be doing to her?"

"Shut up."

"I haven't told you the best part yet." Toby smiled as he tightened his grip on the gun. "I gave her one of these, you know."

"What are you talking about?"

"I tucked it away in the casket with her, just in case she decided she couldn't take it anymore. Being locked up like that, with no help...it can do things to a person. I decided to let her have an option. It's her choice whether she decides to suffer or not."

"She wouldn't kill herself."

"How do you know that? You think she's not capable of it?" Toby chuckled. "Everyone is capable of it, Detective. Just like everyone is capable of killing another human being."

Toby was right—people were capable of doing some pretty desperate things. He had no idea if Nancy would be despondent enough to take her own life. He just had to hope that she would realize he would be there to save her before it was too late.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you? Trying to put yourself in her place, imagining her agony?"

Frank shook his head. "I know Nancy. She would never do that to herself."

"I hope you're right." Toby glanced at his watch. "She has about twenty minutes. Of course, time is relative. For her that could seem like a lifetime, while for you, it may not seem like enough."

"Toby, please...just tell me where she is. If you help me, the judge will likely be lenient on you. In fact, you may not even go to prison. You could get off on insanity."

Toby scoffed. "So they'll just lock me up and give me my very own padded room? How is that supposed to be any better?"

Desperation filled Frank at Toby's stubbornness. He was never going to make it to her if they kept going like this. "Toby, please."

"I'm not going to let that happen. I won't be locked up, so they can study me and pop me full of drugs. I won't become some experiment for them." Toby moved the gun away from Frank and pressed it against his own temple.

Frank's eyes widened in fear as he took a step towards Toby. He wondered if he could make it to the other man before he pulled the trigger. If he killed himself, Frank would never know where Nancy was. "Toby—"

"I really am sorry, Detective."

Frank opened his mouth to scream just as Toby pulled the trigger. Brain matter sprayed the wall, resembling a grotesque ink blot test.

"No!" Frank ran to Toby's side just as his body fell to the floor. He prayed there was still a pulse. He had to find out where Nancy was. His fingers probed at Toby's neck and wrists, but there was nothing. Toby was dead and in his last act of defiance, he had taken Nancy right along with him.

"No! Where is she? Where did you put her, you son of a bitch?" Frank knew his yelling was useless. Toby wouldn't be telling them anything ever again.

"Frank?"

Frank didn't even think as he took the gun out of Toby's grip and swung it around to aim at the shadow in the doorway.

Joe held up his hands as he walked down the stairs. "Whoa, take it easy, brother."

"Joe?" Frank's aim didn't waver as he stared in disbelief as his brother. "You're supposed to be dead. He told Stark to kill you."

"Did you really doubt my abilities? I'm actually kind of offended."

Frank shook his head. "No…this is just my head screwing with me. You're dead. I'm just imagining that you're here."

Joe sighed as he descended the last stair, launching himself at Frank before his brother could comprehend what was happening. He lashed out with his foot, kicking the fun out of Frank's grip, kicking it across the floor to keep him from getting it again. Gripping Frank by his shoulders, he squeezed tightly.

"I'm real, Frank. I'm right here."

"Joe?"

"We've already established that it's me."

Frank felt as if he was a balloon deflating rapidly. It took all of his effort not to stumble from the relief of feeling his brother's grip on his shoulders. Joe was real. Joe was right here in front of him.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked, staring at him strangely.

"Nancy…" Frank glanced down at Toby's body. "He wouldn't tell me where she was. He killed himself before I could find out. She's dead, Joe. I don't know where she is."

"Frank, you need to calm down. Stark told us where Nancy is. The police are already on their way to the cemetery."

"The cemetery?"

Joe nodded. "Stark told us he buried her in the cemetery. If we leave now, we can get there in five minutes. We still have time, Frank. We can still save her."

That spurred Frank into action. For the first time all day, he felt a spark of hope. Maybe there would be a happy ending to this nightmare after all. He began to follow Joe up the stairs when he remembered Toby's phone.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked. "We have to go, Frank."

"He called her on the phone, Joe. I need to hear her voice, especially since…" Frank shook himself, grabbing the phone out of Toby's pocket. Clutching it tightly, he raced up the stairs after Joe.

There was a squad car sitting in the yard, blue lights flashing in the night. Frank looked at Joe, but his brother said nothing as he slid into the driver's seat. He didn't have time to question it as he climbed into the passenger's seat, slamming the door behind him as Joe sped down the driveway.

Calling up the recent call screen on Toby's phone, Frank saw there were only two. He knew the most recent was Stark so he tried the other number, praying that Nancy would answer. "Come on. Answer the damn phone, Nancy."

After what seemed like the tenth ring, Nancy's voice came through the other end. _"H-hello?"_

Frank felt a stab of fear at the weakness he heard in her tone. She was gasping slightly, which led him to believe she didn't have much time left at all. "It's me, Nan."

"_Frank?"_

"Yes. Thank God you're still alive." He closed his eyes, not knowing until that very moment how scared he was that she had possibly used the gun. "We're on our way, Nancy—me, Joe and the police. We're going to find you."

"_H-how? I don't know…where I am."_

"You're in the cemetery, Nan. Stark told Joe that's where Toby buried you."

"_It hurts, Frank…"_

"What hurts, Nancy?"

"_Breathing…it h-hurts." _Nancy let out a painful gasp. _"It hurts…so badly."_

Frank exchanged a look with Joe. "Drive faster, Joe."

Joe kept his eyes on the road, clutching the steering wheel tighter as he maneuvered around a sharp curve. "I'm going as fast as I can, Frank. Just keep talking to her."

"Nancy, I know it hurts but I need you to keep talking to me, okay? I just need to hear your voice."

"_What…do you want…to talk about?"_

Frank racked his brain, trying to come up with anything he could to keep Nancy's focus on him. He needed to distract her, keep her from thinking about dying. "How about our wedding?"

Nancy let out a soft chuckle. _"You really…want to talk…about that?"_

"I do."

"_L-liar."_

"Come on, Nan. Tell me anything you want."

"_We haven't…set a date…for it."_

"Then let's do that now." Frank braced himself against the dashboard as Joe turned into the cemetery, slamming the brakes. There were several squad cars, their blue lights illuminating the pitch black of the night. He followed Joe out of the car, keeping the phone pressed tightly against his ear. "When do you want to get married?"

"_I-I was thinking…"_

"Thinking about what?" Frank asked as Nancy's voice trailed off. They had joined Chief McGinnis and a group of officers around the only freshly dug grave in the entire cemetery. A couple of other men were there and Frank figured they worked for the cemetery. "Keep talking to me, Nan."

"_I was…thinking…a late…summer…wedding…"_

"This is supposed to be a plot for Charles Dewey but his funeral isn't until tomorrow," Chief McGinnis said. "This is the only place she could be."

"Dig it up," Frank said. "Nancy, you hear that? We think we found you. We're about to get you out of there, okay? Just hold on a little longer."

A backhoe fired up and the group stepped out of the way as one of the cemetery workers steered it towards the grave.

"_I…hear something…loud."_

"You heard something?" Frank fought hard to keep the excitement out of his voice. He didn't want to give her a false sense of hope. He still had no idea if they were at the right place or not. "Did it sound like machinery?"

"_I…th-think so."_

Frank covered the mouthpiece, smiling at Joe and Chief McGinnis as the backhoe removed a large area of dirt. "She said she hears machinery. She has to be right here!"

Nancy let out a sob that quickly turned into a gasp of air. _"F-Frank?"_

"I'm still right here, Nan. We're about to get you out of there."

"_Can't…" _

Alarm shot through Frank as she began gasping even more—she was quickly running out of air. "Hurry the hell up! She can't breathe!"

"_I'm…sorry…"_

"Sorry for what, Nancy?" Frank was growing more and more anxious with each passing second. It pained him to listen to her as she struggled to do something as simple as breathe. "You have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me?"

There was no answer.

"Nancy?" Frank glanced at the hole. They were already in at least four feet. Just a couple of more feet of dirt and they would be able to see the casket. "Nancy, answer me…please!"

The entire scene seemed to play out in slow motion—McGinnis began pointing and barking out orders to everyone, though Frank couldn't make out any of the words. Joe pulled at his arm, trying to get Frank to focus on him, but Frank wasn't having any of it. All he could focus on was the deafening silence on the other end of the phone.

Frank couldn't say what finally snapped him out of his trance. It was as if someone or something else took over his body. As soon as the backhoe got as far as it could into the grave without crushing the casket, Frank threw the phone aside and grabbed one of the shovels and jumped in, digging frantically. It wasn't going to end this way.

He heard everyone shouting at him, but he ignored them all. He dug with all of his might, flinging dirt over his head.

"Let him be," Chief McGinnis said as the cemetery workers continued to yell their protests.

Frank stopped when the tip of the shovel hit the hard surface of the wood underneath. Dropping to his knees, he cleared the dirt away with his hands until the top portion of the lid was visible. His teeth clenched in anger when he saw the padlock holding the lid in place.

Maybe it was a good thing Toby had killed himself after all. If he hadn't done that, Frank was pretty sure he would have done the job for him, especially after seeing this.

There wasn't any time to pick the lock, so Frank stood up, stretching his legs over either side of the casket. Gripping the shovel tightly in his hands, he brought the tip of it down, tearing away at the lock until it finally popped off. Throwing the shovel out of the grave, he bent down and opened the lid.

Nancy was in there, her eyes closed as if in death. His stomach lurched as he saw the blood on her hands and though he didn't want to, he looked at the lid to see the claw marks etched into the wood. Nausea overcame him, but he fought it down. He could push it away for now—Nancy was all that mattered at the moment.

"Someone help me get her out of here!" Frank yelled with more control than he actually felt. Moving to the other side of the coffin, he lifted the other half of the lid before reaching in and awkwardly scooping Nancy up into his arms. Getting her out was going to be the tricky part, especially since they were so far in the ground.

Looking up, he saw Joe and Chief McGinnis holding their arms out towards him.

"Try to turn her so we can grab her under her arms," Joe said. "We should be able to pull her up that way."

Frank nodded, standing to his full height with her. Joe was lying on the ground, extending his body as far down as it could go, with Chief McGinnis and a couple of other officers bracing him so he didn't fall in. Joe wrapped his arms around Nancy beneath her shoulders and slowly pulled her up. Frank turned and jumped on the other side, pulling himself out of the grave just in time to help Joe pull Nancy out the rest of the way.

As soon as she was out, Frank scooped her up once again and lay her down on the ground. His hand was shaking as he felt for a pulse, fear gripping him when he didn't feel one.

"An ambulance is on its way," Chief McGinnis said.

Frank only nodded as Joe dropped on the other side of her and they began to perform CPR. The next few minutes were going to be vital and they needed to work quickly. After Joe did the necessary chest compressions, Frank pinched Nancy's nose and breathed into her mouth. He grew frustrated as he felt for another pulse and still found nothing.

"Keep going, Joe. Don't stop."

The brothers worked in tandem as they tried to revive Nancy. With each failed attempt, Frank became more and more desperate. For the first time, he realized this is how his brother must have felt when Iola was killed. And in that moment, he marveled at Joe's ability to move on with his life. He honestly didn't know if he could be that strong if they weren't able to save Nancy.

Just when he was about to lose all hope of saving her, Nancy's eyes popped open and she let out a strangled gasp.

"Nancy!"

Before he could even think about embracing her, he felt himself being pulled away as the paramedics stepped in to take over. Frank fought against whoever was holding him, not wanting to leave her side. "Let go of me! I want to be with her!"

"Frank, you have to let the paramedics work on her," Joe said, wincing as Frank unintentionally hit him in the jaw. "I'm going to let that one slide for the time being."

"I can't leave her again, Joe." Frank's eyes never left Nancy as the paramedics worked to get her stabilized before loading her onto the stretcher.

"I'm not telling you to leave her, Frank. I'm telling you to give them room so they can do their job."

After they loaded Nancy into the ambulance, one of the paramedics came over, pulling off his rubber gloves. "She's asking for Frank."

"Go, Frank." Chief McGinnis nodded at Joe. "Joe and I will meet you at the hospital."

Frank didn't have to be told twice. He jogged towards the waiting ambulance, climbing into the back and sitting on the bench beside her.

Nancy reached up to remove the oxygen mask over her face, but Frank took her hand and stopped her.

"You don't have to say anything, Nan. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, not missing the tears as they streamed down her face. "You're safe now."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**I felt really bad (not really) about leaving you guys with such an awful cliffhanger, that I had to update quicker than I usually do. You didn't really think I could kill off any of the main characters, did you?**

**I want to thank the following for the reviews for the last chapter: unobtrusivescribe, Caranath, Guest #1, Michelle Gallichio, SarahE7191, Lady Emily, rangermaid, Mrs. Frank Hardy, Liliththestormgoddess, Cupcake, bhar, Bookfanatic67, Ealasaid Una, Guest #2, zenfrodo, and macey-cass. You guys rock!**

**We got one more chapter to go and I apologize for any mistakes!**

**Until next time! **


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_Two days later_

* * *

><p>"Nancy, wake up. You're having a nightmare."<p>

Nancy awoke with a start, her eyes moving around the room wildly. She was okay—she was in her old bedroom at her father's house, not buried beneath the earth. Frank was sitting beside her, concern in his brown eyes as he slowly loosened his grip on her shoulders.

"Sorry," she murmured, pushing her hair back from her face. _God, how many times have I said that in the last two days?_

Frank sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "I wish you would stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Sor—" Nancy stopped when he glared at her.

"Was it the same dream?"

"In all its vivid glory."

"I still think you should see a doctor about them."

"I already told you that it's not going to happen." Nancy sat up against the pillows, staring at her bandaged hands. The tips of her fingers were raw, her nails broken to the quick from where she had tried to claw her way out of the grave.

Those injuries would at least heal after some time. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the mental toll her ordeal had taken on her. After all, it wasn't every day a person was buried alive and lived to tell the tale. She hadn't slept much since she left the hospital, even with the aid of the sedatives her doctor had prescribed her. Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back in the casket.

"Besides, you can't be doing very well yourself," she pointed out.

"I'm not worried about me. I'm more worried about you and Joe."

"Which is just complete crap. You act as if what you went through was nothing compared to what Joe and I went through."

"She's right, you know." Joe pushed away from the doorway and came into the room, closing the door behind him.

Frank glared at his sibling. "I don't need another lecture."

Joe shrugged as he sat down on the edge of Nancy's bed. "The way I see it, we could all use a lecture. But, we happen to be so stubborn that we don't want to listen to the same advice we keep throwing at each other."

It had been a trying two days, to say the least. The brothers had thought it best not to tell Nancy about the apartment being destroyed until she had been released from the hospital. Instead of getting to go home to recuperate, they'd been forced to go to the Drew home. And while that wasn't the worst thing in the world, it was hard to relax or do anything with Hannah and her father constantly hovering over them.

After realizing that Toby had killed himself, Stark had told the police everything. He'd even admitted to killing Toby's mother all those years ago, and then essentially kidnapping and brainwashing him to become his own personal killing machine.

"What I could use is finally getting things back to normal," Nancy said.

"I second that," Frank chimed in.

"And you can do that as soon as we get some things straightened out. Believe me, I know I am the last person to be doing this, but I figure one of us has to step up." Joe turned to Frank. "First things first: you need to acknowledge what you went through."

Frank's face hardened as he stared back at Joe.

"Okay, so you don't have the cuts and bruises like we do. But you can't sit around and pretend that it didn't do something to you, Frank." Joe shook his head, running a hand over his mouth. "Toby wanted you to _choose_ between two of the people you loved most. He was willing to play a game with our lives and he wanted _you _to live with the choice you made."

"But I didn't choose."

"And when you didn't, he just decided to up the stakes and try to kill us both, leaving you with the inability to save either one of us. What did that feel like, Frank?"

Frank swallowed hard. "It felt like hell."

"Exactly. It would have felt the same way for me, and I'm sure Nancy would agree as well."

"I would," Nancy said, giving Frank's hand a squeeze.

"It was the scariest and worst feeling in my life," Frank said after a few moments of silence. "And look at what we do for a living—chasing down criminals, putting our lives on the line on a daily basis. But for me to have to sit there, thinking about what they were doing to the two of you, unable to do anything to help you…it tore me up. But what killed me the most was that they honestly thought they were helping me if they took the two of you out of my life."

"They were delusional, Frank."

"I know."

"You can't deny they didn't screw with you, Frank," Joe said. "Hell, you were ready to shoot me on the spot when I showed up at the cellar."

"I thought I had lost everything," Frank admitted, looking a little sheepish. "I didn't want to believe that they were wrong. I didn't want to believe that for once, luck was on our side."

"You have everything, Frank," Nancy said.

"Well, not everything," Joe pointed out. "You're kind of homeless at the moment."

"No thanks to you," Nancy teased, nudging Joe with her foot.

"Hey, it's not my fault that the psycho doc decided to use your apartment as my personal funeral pyre. I would have been perfectly happy in the middle of the woods or an abandoned warehouse. I guess he just figured you wouldn't need it anymore."

Nancy chuckled at Joe's attempt to lighten the mood. It always amazed her how he was able to find humor in any situation, no matter how dire it was. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Joe asked.

"How are you doing?"

Joe shrugged. "I'm okay." He held up his hands as Nancy and Frank both opened their mouth to protest. "I'm okay _now_. But if you're wondering if I was freaked out about being roasted alive, the answer is yes, even if it wasn't something that I technically feared."

"You had to fear it a little bit," Nancy said.

"Well, sure I did—especially when my clothing almost caught on fire. But honestly, what we see in our careers, what we've been through since we were teenagers…I don't know. I guess I don't dwell on everything that could potentially happen to me. It's part of the job description."

"That's not exactly the best outlook to have."

Joe shrugged. "Well, it's all I have. Do I want to die anytime soon? No. But do I really want to sit still and list all of the things I fear? Absolutely not. I couldn't imagine living my life the way those people in the group did."

"It couldn't have been easy to hear Stark talk about Iola," Frank said. Joe had filled them in on everything Stark had said to him while he was holding him captive at the apartment.

"No…it wasn't. Even after all these years, it's still hard to hear anyone talk about her. But when you add a shrink to the mix, well that just screws you the hell up."

Nancy arched a brow, smirking at Frank. "And you want _me _to go see a therapist? Joe will be the first to tell you how much it sucks."

Joe nodded solemnly, a slight shiver going down his spine. "I would."

"Okay, I'll make you a deal," Frank said. "You stop pretending you're okay and talk about what happened, and I'll stop pressuring you about seeing a professional."

Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the two brothers. They were staring at her intently, and she knew there was no way she was going to get out of this. Normally, she had no problem sharing her feelings, but if she began to dig deep now and really talk about what she went through, she was afraid that she wouldn't stop.

"We can stay here all day, Nan," Frank said quietly.

Hugging herself tightly, Nancy closed her eyes. She had no idea where to begin. Finally, she decided to be honest with them. "I'm not okay. I keep telling myself that I am, because the last thing I want to be is weak. It's not who I am."

"No one ever said you were."

"I know…and it has nothing to do with what other people think about me, Frank. It has to do with what I'm feeling inside and all I feel is scared and angry…and weak."

"Nan…"

Nancy shook her head. "Just let me talk, Frank. You wanted to know what was going on, so just let me talk before I change my mind." She stared back at Frank and Joe, waiting for them to say something but they obediently remained silent. "Being in that coffin was absolute hell. I felt helpless, which is something I'm not accustomed to. I'm used to getting myself out of scrapes and bringing the bad guy down. But waking up in that coffin, I finally realized I'm not this invincible person I like to convince myself I am. For the first time, I felt human."

Frank gave her hand a gentle squeeze and Nancy squeezed back, glad he was holding onto her. He was her tether to this world, and just realizing how close she was to losing that brought a new wave of fear washing over her.

"When Toby left me there, I eventually became convinced that no one would find me." Nancy let out a bitter laugh. "I mean, how many people you know survive being buried alive? When he called and I got to hear your voice, Frank, it brought on a whole new level of fear. I knew that it was going to be the last time I got to speak to you. It hit me so hard that I felt as if something ripped my heart from my chest. I began to think about everything I was going to miss, everyone I didn't get to say goodbye to."

Nancy took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "Not many people can understand what happens to a person when they reach that point of helplessness and hopelessness. It suffocates you as your mind starts to screw with you. And then it finally gets to the point where you just want to stop…stop thinking, stop trying, and stop suffering."

Frank's grip tightened on her hand as if he knew what she was about to say.

"You saw the gun there in the casket, didn't you?"

"Toby told me he left it in there with you," Frank said softly. "He said he wanted to give you a choice."

"The answer is yes."

Joe frowned in confusion. "Yes, what?"

"I used it." Nancy blinked rapidly, pushing back the tears threatening to spill over. "I pressed it against my chest and I pulled the trigger. It was empty. The bastard didn't leave the bullet he promised me."

Frank looked as if he'd just seen a ghost. His face was pale, his mouth agape as he stared at Nancy in horror. "Why?"

"Because I was at the end, Frank. I was terrified and hurting and I just wanted it all to end. I didn't want to suffer anymore." Nancy glanced away from him. "And then I started thinking about you. I knew you wouldn't want me to suffer. So I thought when you eventually found me, you would be happy to know I didn't suffer."

"And seeing you with a self-inflicted gunshot wound would make me feel any better?" Frank asked, snapping out of his initial shock. Now his brown eyes blazed angrily.

"I was okay with my decision, Frank."

"I'm not!" Frank got up from the chair and started pacing in front of the bed. "How in the world could you have been so selfish, Nancy?"

"Selfish?"

"How could you possibly think we wouldn't find you?"

Anger burned through Nancy as she listened to Frank. How dare he accuse her of being selfish when she was facing imminent death. "I was being realistic!"

"You were being a coward."

Joe stood up then, putting himself between the two of them. "The both of you need to calm down. _Now._" He waited until they both gave a terse nod before he continued. "While I may not agree with everything that is being said, I do think that you are way out of line calling Nancy selfish and a coward."

"But—" Frank began.

"Have you even for one second put yourself in her position and thought about what you would have done?" Joe demanded. "She was terrified and honestly, I don't blame her for what she did. Realistically, she should be dead, whether it's from a gunshot wound or suffocating to death. Hell, she was dead when we found her."

"I never meant to hurt you, Frank," Nancy said softly. "You wanted me to be honest with you. Would it have made you feel better if I would have kept this to myself?"

"No," Frank admitted.

"I was dying." Nancy gave a little shrug. "Hell, I'm still terrified that I'm still in that coffin. I can't even close my eyes without having a panic attack. And I know it's not going to be something that I can tuck away in the back of my mind and pretend it never happened. I'm just trying to deal with it the best way I can."

"Nancy…"

Nancy let out a small sob, wiping away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. "All I can do is say that I'm sorry. I should have believed in you."

"No, I'm sorry," Frank said, coming to sit beside her on the bed. "I shouldn't have called you a coward. I was just angry and scared when you admitted the truth about using the gun." Cupping her face with his hands, he pulled her close and kissed her softly. "It's my fault that I love you so much."

Joe let out a groan. "Could you at least let me leave the room before this gets embarrassing and awkward?"

Nancy smiled as she pulled away from Frank and looked up at Joe. "You act as if you've never seen us kiss before."

"I usually pretend that I don't." Joe walked to the door and opened it. "I'm going to go see if Hannah needs any help."

"So, are we okay?" Nancy asked as soon as Joe closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with Frank.

Frank nodded as he moved to the head of the bed and pulled her against his chest. "We're together, aren't we?"

Nancy let out a content sigh as she leaned against him, feeling his heart beat against her back. She could picture herself staying this way forever. Sure, it was going to take a while before she would feel back to her old self again. But as long as Frank was here, holding her this way, maybe—just maybe—the nightmares could be held at bay.

"Always."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Alas, we have come to the end of another story. **

**I apologize for the length of time between updates, but this past week or so made it very difficult for me to write or get anything accomplished. I also apologize for any mistakes!**

**I truly want to thank each and every one of you for your continued support. I write because I love it and because of all of you, so thank you. So, for the last time for this story, allow me to thank the following reviewers: nicolelylewis, Caranath, zenfrodo, Jesusfreak2014, Liliththestormgoddess, Lady Emily, Michelle Gallichio, Mrs. Frank Hardy, unobtrusivescribe, rangermaid, , bhar, Ealasaid Una, SarahE7191, Cupcake, PerfectPrincess, Yenna, Roswalyn, guest, and Lys.**

**I will be back soon with another adventure, but I'm not about to reveal it now. I will just say that I am super excited about it!**

**Until next time!**


End file.
